Certain Things
by gkitty16
Summary: Soulmates. Fate. Destiny. Lucas Friar was a firm believer that these phenomenons all took time, lengthy time in fact, and he just had to wait. But when waiting fails to fulfill his happiness in life, he resorts to a second option, who seems to be everything he could ever need.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

 _28 December, 2016._

 **Maya's POV.**

The arrogance of some people at train stations was astonishing. With the smelly waiting areas, rude attendants, and subpar food options, the immaturity some adults displayed in the worst of places was pure cruelty. Because of Winter Storm Joaquin up in Maine, I guess Riley's train was severely delayed, so I've been stuck in this hellhole for 12 hours and counting. I looked down at my watch, then back up at the television tracking the storm heading south, and groaned. I couldn't stand the feeling of sitting around motionless for more than three hours, nevermind twelve, so I got up and took a walk. Dodging people left and right and trying to not to step on the wads of gum at the same time was certainly a challenge I was not suited for considering I was wearing heels. I sighed, sitting back down and resting my tiresome feet. I really wished I could sympathize with Riley when she used to speak of the horrid weather New England got in the winter, but I just couldn't. The weather here in Miami was so warm and relaxing year round, it was hard not to obliviously brag to her. She would always snap at me when I complained of my tedious life problems, claiming her's was much more difficult considering the 4 feet of snow she had to deal with every time she stepped foot outside. Sure she was annoying, but that's what I loved about her. And that's what made her return to Miami so special.

Riley's been scouting for her dream college since the age of _eight. Eight._ At eight, I didn't even know what college was. Hell, I probably didn't even know the direction my life was heading considering I still had 12+ years of schooling ahead of me.

At eight, Riley and I would talk about our dream double wedding all day; how she would marry the intelligent brunette with charming eyes and I would go for the dare-devil blonde with a sympathetic smile.

At nine, Riley and I decided to raise a little money to buy one of those fancy bicycles with two seats. Outside Topanga's summer condo, Riley and I would sell our "fresh lemonade, made from real lemons!" while Topanga stayed quickly inside mixing up the power and water for us to scam our customers with.

At ten, after finally raising enough money for that bicycle, I decided to take it for our first spin one night at the park. Without getting into much detail, let's just say Riley and I ended up in a puddle of muddy water lying next to our newly broken bicycle. It was a good run.

At eleven, Riley Matthews moved to Maine. And since that day, disregarding the occasional visits here and there on spring break, that was the last day I saw her.

Seven years later, I sit idle in a mediocre train station, awaiting the arrival of my best friend once again.

Restlessly, I checked my phone for any news from Riley or my boyfriend Josh, who's now been texting me constantly. Every now and then, he would check in on me, asking me the most cliche things, like _Any better?_ or _How's things?_ and it was the same response every time.

 _It's cool, it's all good, it's fine._

Kinda annoying when your _own_ mother has to constantly remind your _own_ boyfriend to do boyfriend-ly things, like checking in on your girlfriend and making sure she's okay and all. The assertiveness he has in trying to make himself responsible and mature with me is nice, but it's very clearly all a show to impress my mother, and it's embarrassing, to be frank. With this recent attitude he's putting on, it'll appear to Riley like I have my life together. At least a little.

A train pulled in, its engines roaring as it closed to a stop and smoke now invading the already intoxicated station. I jumped to my heels in excitement, as the conductor opened

the doors to each of the cars and watched as people from all directions piled out.

My eyes scanned everywhere for Riley, until finally I saw her in the very back of the train cars, struggling to pull three suitcases behind her and hold a duffle bag on her shoulder.

Shoving through the train station scum of the Earth, I approached her, and we hugged, for a good five minutes at least. Her warmth radiated as she squeezed the living daylights out of me, and I remembered once again why I called her my best friend in the first place.

 _5 January, 2016._

"The Miami International School of Art and Design isn't that big of a deal. I should just move back to Maine and go to art school with all the hillbillies and moose farmers."

Riley, in severe denial that today was her first day back in the Miami school system, relentlessly insisted upon _not_ following her dream of going to MIUAD since she was like, eight, and going back to the arctic to be an ice-fisher once again. Riley moved to Miami now because her family lost their farm in Maine, and it's been a lifelong dream of Riley's to attend MIAUD for poetry. Guess the economy is pretty competitive up there selling frozen vegetables and grass.  
"You're being ridiculous. There's like, 5,000 kids at Palm West. Nobody will even notice you're new."

Skip ahead five hours, and you have "Miss Matthews", a.k.a, the whitest girl at Palm West, trying to introduce herself in Spanish to our class of 30 students, per requests of Señora Rivera.

"Go ahead, give it a shot. You've got nothing to lose here, sweetie" Señora Rivera insisted.

While Riley looked like a fish out of water standing in front of the class, the seven hispanic kids in the back sat with their arms crossed, probably whispering some incomprehensible Spanish profanity.

"Uh, me, me gusta Riley Matthews."

Considering Riley has taken maybe one year of languages tops due to the lack of hispanics in St. Agatha, Maine, you'd think the judgemental Latinos would cut the poor white girl a break. Instead, the classroom erupted into laughter, some kids hollering "Ay, yo también!" all with the exception of my friend and I, Lucas.

"Alright, quiet down kids. Abran sus libros en la página 47, por favor"

 _9 January, 2016._

 **Lucas POV.**

Riley is something new. She's bright, she's energetic, she's bubbly, and she's optimistic.

But she's nothing compared to Maya Hart.

Maya has always been a friend to me when nobody else was. When Riley was out of the picture, Maya had girls swarming from left and right to be her next partner in crime. But she still chose me.

She chose the kid in the back of the class who would get shoved into his cubby on a daily basis. She chose the kid who sat at lunch by himself and would sometimes even call his mother faking an illness in order to get out of recess. She chose me because nobody else did, and that's why Maya Hart is beautiful.

When Maya felt alone, I felt alone with her. When she was happy, I was happy with her. It's always been that way up until just recently. And I'm not saying Riley Matthews is a threat, but it's just _new_.

I still sit at lunch across from Maya, watching as she graces the most ordinary movements with delicacy and allure. Except, unlike before, Riley now sits beside her.

I still sit next to Maya in Chemistry class, listening as she jokes of how she'll _accidentally_ combine hydrogen sulfide and nitric acid so we can get an "early release". Except, unlike before, Riley sits behind her and Maya's back is turned the whole class, gossiping away rather than paying attention.

"You're a smart girl Maya, don't you think you're wasting your potential?" I would say, nudging her in the shoulder as Mrs. Consolas would continue her lecture without a pause.

She could reply with a chuckle, "What potential?"

The most saddening thing about Maya is she doesn't understand how beautiful or smart she is. She's one of the most intelligent people in our AP Chemistry class. The fact she even knew what hydrogen sulfide and nitric acid were, nevermind that together they release a toxic gas that's unsafe for humans to inhale, says a lot about her, yet she never believes in herself.

When she could complain to me about how her boyfriend—mind you, who is 5 years older than her—was making some "wrong" choices in his life, I would tell her she deserves better. But she never believed me.

Today at lunch I sat with Zay Babineaux, a friend of mine from football, listening as he bragged of his weekend with Molly Lang. Interrupting our conversation, however, was none other than Maya Hart, speed walking to the table as if she had something urgent to say.

"I have something important to say."

Zay raised his eyebrow at the blonde, who now sat across from him, with her eyes widened and his fists clenched.

"What's up?" I asked casually.

"I'm not going to lie to you, but I'm not going to be totally honest either. So let's just say that a _certain_ brunette likes a _certain_ jock of a football player."

After 30 seconds of Zay and I staring at Maya completely blank, she groaned.

"A _blonde_ football player?" Maya said, tapping her fingers anxiously on the table.

Zay looked at me, and I looked at him, still confused.

"Riley thinks you're cute. God, could you two take a hint for once?" she snapped.

And suddenly everything stopped. Zay was no longer beside me, nor Maya across from me, and all I could see was the burning image of Riley Matthews trying to make a move on me in my head. Not that she wasn't cute or anything, but I've kind of had this lifelong plan to make Maya my first girlfriend, not her best friend.

"And Holly Bradshaw's 18th birthday party is tonight, and you kind of still don't have a date, nor does Riley, so I figured you two could go together. Pick her up at 8:30?"

"Maya, you can't just set me up with some girl I barely know!" I scolded, my face developing a cold sweat and my heart pounding through my chest.

Maya raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, looking offended.

"Riley isn't just some girl, and since you've had a solid record of 0 girlfriends in your high school history, I'd reconsider," she rolled her eyes and stood up, finishing her case with, "338 South Street. Be there at 8:30."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed chapter one. This is my first time writing these types of stories and actually posting them online so please give me feedback by posting a review! It would mean a lot. I've finished chapters 1-4, so I will be posting these all within very short intervals. As for the rest of the story, I'm going back to school soon, so I'll do my best keeping up with it. Still not sure how long I intend on making this. Anyways, this chapter is about "Holly Bradshaw" (A.K.A my made up, rich white girl name) and her trashy 18th birthday party. I really hate writing party scenes, but I hope you guys can *tolerate* this chapter. Things move kinda fast in these few chapters, so sorry about that, but the good stuff is yet to come :-)

 **Chapter Two**

Maya's POV.

 _From: Lucas_

 _Maya, I can't do this. Tell Riley I'm sorry._

✓ _Read 8:17 p.m._

 _To: Lucas_

 _You're seriously being ridiculous. You're telling me Lucas Friar is going to miss a party in fear of grinding with some girl he doesn't know? Big deal. Grow up Lucas. You got 10 minutes._

✓ _Read 8:20 p.m._

 _From: Lucas_

 _You seriously think "grinding" is stopping me from having a good time? I'm obviously interested in somebody else, and you can't take no for an answer. That's why I'm not going._

✓ _Read 8:22 p.m._

I stopped my banter with Lucas after reading he had another love interest. _Another love interest?_ His sexual life is about as dry as the Sahara. If a girl even said hello to him out of freewill, I would have known. I'm his _Maya._ He tells me everything.

 _To: Lucas_

 _Since you're a bad liar and for some reason being obnoxiously stubborn about dating my hot, intelligent friend, Riley and I will be there in five minutes. Please, change out of your Star Wars pajamas and look somewhat presentable._

✓ _Read 8:24 p.m._

Ten minutes or so later, I painfully dragged Riley through the streets of Miami in our stilettos, considering neither of our broke asses could afford a car. Not in this economy.

I banged on Lucas' door. After around fifteen seconds, I gave no courtesy, banged again and to my surprise Mrs. Friar opened.

"Mrs. Friar! What a delight to see you!" I said with a huge smile, embracing her at the doorway.

"Maya! Long time no see!"

Despite my obnoxious and overly rude banging, I was one of the most charming people on the upper west side of Miami. Everywhere I went, some old lady and her third cousin would greet me, exclaiming how we need to "catch up" soon. Although annoying, it clearly came with some advantages.

"Is Lucas here?" I asked.

Mrs. Friar turned her head, her short blonde curls bouncing over her shoulder.

Without thought, she obnoxiously hollered, "Lucas! Two pretty girls at the door here for you!"

Emerging from the dark oblivion of the Friar household was Lucas, dark bags smeared under his usual crystal blue eyes and his necktie tied poorly.

As he completely ignored his mother's requests of returning home by 12, he rolled his eyes as he shoved past me.

I scoffed.

"Your tie looks ridiculous, Friar."

As he sped ahead with his suit jacket thrown lazily over his shoulder, I, wearing 4 inch pumps, hastily followed. Snagging on his jacket, I was finally able to pull him back, but to no relief.

"Can you please leave me alone?" he snapped. I rolled my eyes in response.

"Listen if you weren't such a party-pooper, we wouldn't have to be dealing with this, yet here we are," I stopped and pulled him in by his necktie, "you're a mess, and Riley can't see you like this," I mumbled under my breath. He huffed, but from the corner of my eye I could tell it was hard for him to keep from smirking as my warm hands were touching his neck.

Fifteen minutes or so had passed, and I couldn't say I felt like my feet were doing alright, because they weren't. But upon turning around and seeing Riley and Lucas talking and giggling in each other's company, it made it all worthwhile. Lucas, still mildly pissed off, managed to put on a smile for Riley, and Riley looked ecstatic talking to him. It was like that puppy-dog-love-at-first-sight crap you see in movies.

Holly Bradshaw's party was your typical high school party- beer bottles galore, endless quantities of vodka stolen from her father's cabinet, and of course blaring music. Upon entering, Riley tripped over a broken beer bottle as we were greeted by the clearly buzzed Holly Bradshaw, who happily accepted gifts from all of her invites before allowing one inside.

"Enjoy", she would say, her words slurring and her eyes faintly opened as she piled gift boxes upon gift boxes on her lap.

It didn't take me much more than five minutes to get just as buzzed as Holly Bradshaw. Men in very sophisticated suits would approach Lucas, Riley, and I with platters filled with weird martini glasses, garnished with an olive. I didn't know what the hell it was, but it was good. And it sure as hell got me drunk.

 _10:47 p.m._

 **Lucas POV.**

The shy, misspoken brunette with big, dorky reading glasses and a book always in her left hand turned out to be a real good time at parties. With a beer bottle in one hand and a vodka with cranberry in another, Riley Matthews stood on the punch table and danced the night away to "I Wanna Dance With Somebody." As the entire party waved their hands in synchronization to the beat of the music, I stood in the back and watched as Maya took turns switching off on guys to make out with. I felt my stomach churn and had to look away.

"A disgrace, isn't it?" a voice sounded from behind, and stood against the wall next to me.

"Sorry?"

"Maya Hart. She's lovely, isn't she?"

I couldn't help but feel jealous and resist the urge to knock out this sarcastic ass, but I kept my composure.

"Not like this," I simply said, giving a chuckle in response.

"Farkle Minkus. Nice to meet you," he said, putting out his hand for me to shake. Meekly, I reciprocated, and sheepishly smiled.

"It's sad to see how she constantly disrespects herself," Farkle began, shaking his head in disappointment as she moved onto Douchebag #3, "she has so much potential."

I nodded.

"Tell me about it."

Farkle looked up at me as I bit my lip, watching as her lips mingled with his.

"You're still in love with her, aren't you?" he said suddenly.

Startled, I turned, and answered shakily, "Who said I liked her in the first place?"

He laughed.  
"Ah, I know I've just met you and all, but let's be frank with each other, eh? _Everyone_ knows you've always had a thing for her, except for her," I quickly avoided contact and bit my nail, "but my question is why? Why are you so head over heels for a girl who will barely pay you the decency of letting you not look like a total loser in the back at this party?"

I clenched my fists in anger, biting the inside of my lip as my face grew red.

"I'm just not the party type-"

"-And I heard you came with Riley Matthews, who seems like a total catch. I'm glad to see you're finally growing up, kiddo. It's a healthy change"

"I-"

"Well, it was nice talking to you. Hope everything works out for you two."

Farkle, the short, scrawny, yet undeniably reasonable boy had left then, leaving me standing yet again against the wall, with only my life to contemplate.

 **Maya's POV.**

A few hours later, things got really blurry- like, _really_ blurry.

This god awful ringing woke me on the Bradshaw bathroom floor, surrounded by beer bottles and upchuck from unidentified sources. I squinted my eyes, searching the floor for my cellphone and trying not to step in the vomit smeared across the cold tile floor. At last, I found the origin of my cruel, unwanted awakening, and answered with a groggy,  
"Hello?"

That night, I experienced one of the most horrifying sounds of my life. _Drunk Riley._ She was one of the most snappy, conceded, megalomaniac bitches I've heard in my life.

"Hey Maya, hate to interrupt your partying and all, but Lucas and I are heading back to his place, so you're going to need another place to stay."

I couldn't tell if I was hallucinating considering the amount of Bud Light's fluctuating throughout my system or if I was actually hearing clearly. Ignoring the obvious factor of Lucas Friar actually _allowing_ or _liking_ Riley enough to let him sleep at his place, how the hell would he sneak that big-mouthed drunken fool three feet into his house without Mrs. Friar finding out? Whatever the case may be, it certainly wasn't my problem.

"That's… that's fine Rile-"

The line went dead.

 _10 January, 2016._

 _10:06 a.m._

 **Lucas' POV.**

The morning after was always the hardest.

My head was pounding, I was nauseatingly dizzy, and I was extremely thirsty.

From the end of the hall, I heard my mother's heels click down the hardwood floor. I rolled over and looked at the clock. Almost 10:30- she was making her annual stop into my room to wish me a "well" day before leaving for work.

She lazily knocked on my door, and peeked her head in at me with a smile.

The smile quickly turned into nothing short of a gasp and look of disgust. A surge of anxiety ran down my spine as my eyes followed where she was looking, and remains from my awful night almost came up at that very moment.

Riley, her mascara severely smeared under her eyes, laid in my bed wearing nothing but her undergarments and knee stockings. She was completely knocked.

"Is that _Maya_?" my mother scolded, rushing to her assistance, "I knew this was destined to happen. Did you two use protection?"

" _Mom!"_

Suddenly, Riley's eyes faintly opened, and it didn't take her very long to realize where she was, or who was looking at her. She jumped back when noticing my mother's bugged eyes, and hastily covered herself with my sheet.

"I-I'm sorry, I need to go" Riley said, scrambling about the room for her dress.

"Riley, don't-"

My mother, with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms, stood at the doorway as the hungover Riley struggled with squeezing back into her dress and finding her left stiletto.

"It was nice meeting you, Miss Riley," my snarky mother said to the brunette as she hurried out of my room.

After hearing the apartment door close, I sat up.

"Mom, what the hell?"

"Oh, you expect me to treat your drunken one night stand with hospitality and respect? What kind of mother do you think I am?"

"But if it was Maya it would be okay?"

"I've known Maya for years, Lucas. It's different."

"It's not different, Mom! I'm sick of being alone. I'm sick of fawning over some girl who will never feel the same way about me! Wouldn't you give up too?"

My mother paused and pursed her lips.

"Not if I never tried in the first place."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: A somewhat introduction to Farkle's role in this chapter. Anyone got an idea?

Also, I live for cute Rilaya bantering, so you know I had to include that at the end.

 **Chapter 3**

 _2 February, 2016._

 _8:54 a.m._

 **Riley's POV.**

An early spring was steadily approaching on the West side of Miami, and Palm West sure was feeling it. The sun would beam into the classroom windows, and students would daydream about the beach- only 10 minutes away, mind you. I sure was. Sometimes, I'd catch myself in History daydreaming about Lucas and I taking drives to the beach and having a picnic by the ocean, until that became a reality.

"Hey babe," Lucas said to me this morning, kissing my cheek and handing me my regular coffee- iced, 2 splenda and extra cream. I smiled.

"You know I love you, right" I would say daily, blushing and trying not to look like a complete fool in front of him.

"Of course I do."

After _that night,_ contrary to your typical aftermath awkwardness, things between Lucas and I were surprisingly more comfortable than ever. A few hours after I'd left, he called me and apologized for his mother's behavior, which at the time I completely brushed off, and every so often we got together to get coffee. Increasingly, these "coffee get-togethers" turned into "movie nights", which then turned into "bowling alley hangouts", and finally a real dinner date. It was wonderful. As Maya liked to call it, it really was that "puppy-dog-love-at-first-sight" crap. But I couldn't have been happier.

"Ah, my favorite couple," said Maya, coming in as if she were qued. Breaking apart our hands, Maya wrapped her arms around each of us, and we walked together in our big, warm, happy embrace.

"How have my two lovebirds been?"

Lucas, ignoring the question, broke off and went to his locker, while I replied with the more important question,  
"The real concern is yours. When was the last time you heard from Josh?"

Maya's face drooped a bit, and her eyes fell to the floor. She was clearly upset with _any_ mention of Josh lately, but she just wouldn't open up to me.

"Maya?"

"Let's just, not talk about it. Okay?"

Now very clearly pissed off, Maya walked away from Lucas and I, and Lucas watched as she sped down the hall.

"Do you know what's up with her?" I asked him.

"Not lately."

He slammed his locker shut and began to walk with me.

"Why not?"

"It's just different now. It's not that we got into a major fight or anything, I've just grown up a little."

My eyebrows furrowed at the boy, completely unphased by what he just said.

" _Grown_ up? From what I've heard, you two spent your entire childhoods together."

"That's an exaggeration."

"No, you're just being a stubborn asshole."

He stopped and turned around.

"Lucas, talk to me."

He took a deep breath.

"There's nothing to discuss. C'mon, we're gonna be late to Chemistry."

Around 10:02 a.m., one of the most horrifying announcements had been made over the intercom.

" _Riley Matthews to guidance"_

Thoughts circulated my mind, trying to figure out what exactly I could have been called down for. I timidly stood up, grabbing my bag and shuffling through the papers on my desk as everyone in my AP Calculus watched.

Exiting the classroom, I realized I had literally no idea where the guidance office was, never mind who my guidance counsellor was. Eventually, my desperation prevailed the meek pride I had left, and I stopped a janitor with a unibrow to ask for directions.

"Down the hall, first door on ya left," the raspy man replied, ignoring my "Thank you!" and continuing to push his cart filled with buckets of detergents and soaps down the hall.

I found the guidance office and sat in the waiting room, twiddling my thumbs and restlessly bouncing my leg.

Finally, a woman of austere manner approached me, her reading glasses on her nose and a clipboard secured in her arm. She yelled out, "Riley Matthews," despite me being the only one in the waiting room.

Awkwardly, I followed the woman back into her office, and sat in the designated seat across from her desk. She played around on her computer, typing in characters and scrolling through various pages, occasionally leaning back and squinting to read, until I finally had to ask,

"May I know what I've been called down for?"

The woman slowly looked up at me, her cold eyes making me want to crawl under her desk, and then slowly returned her glance back to her computer.

"Well, you've got bad news and good news," she began, obnoxiously licking her lips, "says here you don't have enough credits to graduate, but the good news is you can. Eventually"

"Pardon?"

"Volunteer work, missy."

She slapped a pile of brochures and paperwork in front of me, titled with corny catchphrases like "Great Volunteering Opportunities For Great Kids!" and "Be A Helping Hand… Get Involved!"

I cringed, picking up the first brochure and slowly ticking through the pages.

"I would recommend the South County Animal Shelter. There's tons of open positions and the trainer is actually in the same grade as you are."

As I was trying to comprehend my near future, all I could do was nod, and managed to sputter out a, "Thank you," despite the fact Mrs. Maxfield had quite frankly just ruined my life.

"The _Animal Shelter?"_

"The _Animal Shelter!"_

Maya, upon hearing the news of my horrid fate, was just as disgusted as I was. Not that animals weren't totally adorable and everything, but I just wasn't into wasting my time at a place where I don't care about the people there and they sure as hell don't care about me.

"Considering I have had a solid 3.8 GPA since grade 9 and I am president of the National Honor Society, I just don't see how this can be. What else could I have possibly done to ensure my spot at a great college, nevermind just get my GED!"

Maya sighed into the telephone.

"I don't know what to tell you, peaches."

An awkward silence followed, as a tapped my fingers on my window-side table and watched as a couple of blue-jays fought to death over a french fry on the street below me.

"So, how's things with Josh?" I finally said.

"Just because we're talking on the phone doesn't make it okay for you to ask me things that I'm not comfortable speaking on," Maya snapped, quickly and swiftly, leaving me dumbfounded and almost speechless.

"I'm just concerned, Maya. Clearly, something is wrong, considering every time I merely mention his name you freak out on me."

"Well aren't you a smart cookie," she retorted.

I groaned.

"You know you can tell me anything."

"Yes, I know."

"Then why are you refusing to open up to me?"

"Because I don't want to."

" _Maaaayyyaaaaaaaaa"_

" _Rileyyyyyy-"_

" _-Maaaaaaaayyyyyyaaaaaaa!"_

"Fine! I- I think Josh may be cheating on me. But I'm not sure. So don't say anything"

"How could you come to that assumption?"

"I may or may not have been snooping on a certain colleague's instagram, and I may or may not have stumbled across a picture of a very drunken Josh with his arms around some platinum blonde."

"Maya! What did I tell you about snooping?"

"This was way too important to pass down. When you catch yourself in a situation like this one day with a boy, you'll understand how it feels to be on the short end of the stick. You get desperate and lonely. I don't think Maya Hart was cut out for this long-distance relationship crap."

"I think trust is the most important part of a relationship. If you're going to make this work, you're going to have to trust him."

Maya grew silent.

"Maya, do you still love Josh?"

"Of course I do. But not like this. Not this Josh."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I _love_ this chapter, omg. Besides the cute glee reference at the start (if you catch on to that), Arietta's character is so fun to write and I can't wait to keep writing about her in future chapters. Also, RIARKLE! Well, sorta. Enjoy and please leave a review! xx :)

 **Chapter 4**

 _5 February 2016_

 _10:31 p.m._

 **Maya's POV**

A dim light shone on my desk as I set restlessly trying to graph quadratic functions. I spun in my chair, checked my phone every 2 minutes, and bit my nails, but to no relief; my algebra homework wasn't complete, and if I didn't do it my failing grade would go down further in the hole.

Suddenly, I heard a knock at my window, jumped a bit, and turned around.

A dark figure stood outside, waving his hand at me, and I had to squint to see who it was.

"Lucas?" I said in a whisper, afraid to wake my mother.

"I need to talk," he replied with a nod, tapping his foot anxiously as he stood on my fire escape with nothing but a muscle shirt and boxers on.

"It's 10:30. Isn't this interfering with your beauty sleep?"

"Just let me in."

I gave in, opening my window as he jumped under my covers to relieve his goosebumped skin.

"Hopefully what you're here to talk about is quadratic functions, because I-"

"-I asked Riley to the Valentine's dance today."

I raised an eyebrow at him. After all these weeks of being distant, the first thing he comes to talk to me about is his girlfriend?

"What about it?"

"I've never been to a dance. I thought it would be a great idea, but I'm freaking out, Maya. She's gonna think I'm stupid. She texted me asking me what 'corsage' she's getting me. What the _hell_ is a corsage?"

I chuckled.

"You've come to the wrong person, my friend."

"Maya, this is serious. She's gonna think I'm some huckleberry."

"Isn't that what you are?"

He threw a pillow at me.

"Alright, alright," I began, pulling a piece of paper out from my notebook, "Give this to Alex at Stephania's boutique on Broadway Street. Say it's per Maya's requests. He'll know exactly what you need."

I handed him the paper, and he smiled.

"Thank you, Maya."

"And I would ask for a little pink ribbon too. It would compliment her dress."

"How do you know what dress she's wearing?"

"When you've been best friends with her, she gets a little predictable. She'll wear pink, trust me."

A moment of silence followed, and Lucas' eyes met mine.

"You really love her, don't you?"

"The _real_ question is if you love her."

Quickly, his eyes drifted to the ceiling, and he rolled over on his back. Within minutes, the boy had fallen asleep on my bed.

 _7 February 2016_

 _7:46 a.m._

 **Riley's POV**

"Welcome to South County Animal Shelter, you're number one source for everything pet needs and adoption certificates! We provide in animal rescuing, training, adopting-"

"Woah. How many coffees have you had this morning?" I interjected. The chipper young girl paused, and looked up at the ceiling as if her answer were up there, biting her lip subconsciously.

"She prefers espresso. Like, straight espresso. Just powder in a cup every morning."

The voice came from the kitchen, and I turned around to see tall, skinny boy with brown hair smiling at me.

"Farkle, nice to meet you. I heard you needed some volunteer work, per Mrs. Maxfield of course. She's a keeper, wouldn't you agree?"

The boy was so strong in every word he said, and almost persuasive in a sense. Like, if I were Mrs. Maxfield's loving mother, I would totally agree with his sarcastic, degrading remarks about my own daughter. He's definitely got some sort of career ahead of him in law.

"Totally."

"You like animals?"

"I can tolerate them."

"Great. My pet python needs to be fed breakfast. The mice are in the back room. Be generous, she's a big girl."

My heart dropped, and I gulped. Looking over to the perky redhead, I whispered under my breath, "He's not serious, right?" and she just shrugged. Guess that's what I get for being a bitch to her about her coffee preferences.

"Look, I get it that I'm new and all, but I can't do that. I've had a severe phobia of snakes since the third grade when I saw one giving birth at recess and-"

"I don't actually have a pet snake, Riley, and if I did I wouldn't make you do that. I'm cruel, but not that cruel," he said with a laugh.

 _Yeah, I knew that._

"So you and Arietta do paperwork today. Lunch is at 12, and if you need anything I'll be at the register today."

"Thank you, Farkle!" Arietta interrupted, smiling briefly and then swiftly turning on her heel.

Arietta bounced her head as she walked, which was kind of annoying, and promptly lead me to a back office, with piles of paper mounted on one another.

"I like to call this my office, but you can't tell Farkle that," Arietta sing-songed, "because, you see that water machine there?"

She pointed to a Poland Springs water dispenser with Dixie cups beside it.

"I used my own allowance to buy that. _Myself._ Impressive, right? Most kids spend their money on drugs and alcohol, but not me. I'm dedicated about my work, and hydration is key to being successful in your daily duties."

I slowly nodded.

"That-that's great."

"I know. Feel free to have some anytime. Okay, now down to business. This here is one of my favorite parts about being a South County Animal Shelter Representative. Every time one of our animals is adopted, you and I get to do the most exciting part. We fill out forms indicating the pet's sex, date of birth, allergies-"

"-Pets have allergies?"

" _Let me continue._ Their _allergies,_ shots, and any previous malfunctions regarding its health. Sounds easy, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it's pretty procedural."

"Well, it's not, sister. It's the most important and most common area errors are made in animal adoptions, CNN reported in late 2013."

Intervening my slow, genuine nod, Farkle abruptly popped his head into the door, saying something along the lines of,

"I need paperwork on Terry the turtle, stat."

Arietta jumped in her seat, scrambling amongst the mess on her desk to find a certain document. Papers went flying, her breathing became irregular, a cold sweat developed on her forehead, and I realized in that moment, I was going to have to quit my position as a 'representative' at the South County Animal Shelter.

 _8 February, 2016_

 _8:53 a.m._

 **Maya's POV**

Riley sluggishly walked into school, bags under her eyes and her shoulders drooping. She was a mess.

"Rough day at the animal shelter?" I said, punching her in the shoulder.

"Oh, give me a break. I have to work with the world's most obnoxious, upbeat specimen created by mankind. She sent me to every Staples in Miami to find her special pens, which, after going to only nine locations, I found are only available through delivery. She has her freaking pens imported, Maya. Her _pens_."

She slammed her locker shut.

"From where?"

"That's not the point!" she snapped.

Restlessly, she shuffled through her bag to find a pen to write a pass. After five long, excruciating minutes of watching Riley re-empty and empty her bag of papers and gum wrappers, I asked again,

"Where were those pens from again?"

"Singapore," Riley barked.

I handed her the pen with a smile, and she snatched it from my hand to quickly write the pass.

Lucas came up behind her, kissing her cheek.

"She's not in the mood today, Friar."

As Riley ignored him, Lucas slowly sat beside her, nodding in agreement,

"I can see that."

"She had a rough day at the animal shelter yesterday."

"Do _not_ even say 'ruff,' or any words merely resembling any animal noises. I still have a headache from Pablo after Arietta took it upon herself to take away his bone yesterday."

"Aw, babe,-"

"Not in the mood for cuddling. I need to go to guidance now and straighten this all out."

"Straighten what all out?"

A scrawny, lean kid appeared from behind Riley, looking down at her with a smile. Riley, scared shit, straightened out and pushed a piece of hair behind her eyes.

"Colleges," she replied quickly, "I haven't a clue of any schools down here. My heart was set on the University of Maine, but due to unfortunate circumstances, I've ended up down here. So, I'm going to Mrs. Maxfield to better my options and chances of getting into a great college down here."

Lucas and I were shocked. We looked at each other, raised eyebrows and all, and crossed our arms simultaneously.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're getting a head start on your future. See you tonight, Riley."

He winked at her, and my head immediately spun to Lucas to see his jealousy emerge from it's dormant, nonexistent state and watch him fight to death to win back his woman.

Contrary to my expectations, Lucas was unphased. How could he be stupid enough to not notice this twig flirting with his girlfriend. As Riley practically ran down the hall escaping from the awkward situation, I turned to Mr. Concerned-About-Riley's-Future and sarcastically smiled.

"May I ask your name?"

"It's Farkle."

"Farkle?"

"It's Farkle."

"Ah, okay then, Farkle, or whatever your real name is. You see, I know Riley's a good looking girl and all, but she's kinda taken."  
"Oh! By who?"

"You're looking at him."

Obliviously, he searched the hallway, looking left, right, up and down, until I punched Lucas in the arm and he was forced to look up from his phone.

"So this is the lucky man who gets to call himself Riley Matthews's boyfriend. You're a lucky man, but she's an even luckier girl. I'm glad you're finally in the game my friend," he patted Lucas' shoulder.

While Lucas smiled, I was left at a loss for words. Besides the fact this Farkle kid was most certainly lying about his name and was obnoxiously annoying, why was Farkle acting all buddy-buddy with Lucas?

"I'm sorry, is there something I'm missing here?" I asked.

"Nope, nothing at all" Farkle responded.

The bell rang, and the three of us parted as Farkle ran down the hall almost as fast as Riley did.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: The first official storyline-sort of- starts here! The beginning POV is kind of a filler, because I thought this chapter wouldn't be very long (and it actually turned out being the longest yet o_O) but hopefully you will all find it cute. It's a real fluff POV, and I hate writing (and reading) fluff. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and as always, leave a review! 3

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

 _10 February, 2016_

 _3:50 p.m._

 **Maya's POV**

"Drive, Maya, drive!"

Hastily following Riley's requests, I took a sharp left turn into the plaza lot, parking my car crooked, and got out.

She ran from my mother's minivan into Stephania's, as I lazily followed behind her.

Considering the Valentine's dance was in _four_ days, Riley was doing some last-minute-desperation shopping in almost every high-end (and low-end, like, _thrift store_ low end) boutique in Miami. Stephania's was our last chance. If she didn't find a reasonable dress here, she would have to cancel on Lucas, which, in all honesty, I don't think Lucas would mind much. But this is Riley's dream, and I'm not going to let her down like that.

"It's my job to let you know that we close at 4:30."  
"And it's _your_ job to help me find a dress before then," Riley retorted back to the woman at the front end of the store, her bags already dropped on various seats and her hands shuffling through racks.

The woman raised her eyebrow, looked at me, and then slowly followed Riley.

"What kind of dan-,"

"It's a Valentine's Day dance. Yeah, I know, I'm last minute. I've had a rough week. I would prefer a pink dress, but it doesn't matter. Please, search the racks towards the back of the store. It would be much appreciated."

The woman followed Riley's orders, half-running to the back of the boutique. Riley turned to me.

"You too, sis."

I groaned, dragging my feet to Riley's side.

"How about this one?"

"No."

I sighed.

"Ooo, this one's nice."

"Nah."

"How about this one? It's the perfect shade of pink to match your corsage."

"That one won't work."

I rolled my eyes and sat back down.

"What are you doing?"

"This is the reason you'll never find a dress. You're indecisive as hell and embarrassingly insecure."

Riley sighed.

"Okay, fine, you're right. Give me another chance, please. This is all I've got."

I groaned, yet again, following her and sorting through dresses.

"How's this?"

Riley bit her lip, staring at the dress with a blank expression for a good thirty seconds until I came to the conclusion she didn't like it.

" _Riley!"_

"I'm sorry! Lucas just won't like any of these."

I raised an eyebrow.

"We're talking Lucas _Friar_? He's literally the most easy-going guy ever. He'll like anything you wear, trust me."

"Easy for you to say," she said under her breath.

I turned to her.

"Excuse me?"

"Farkle told me Lucas has been into you, since like, forever. Up until now, obviously."

I scoffed.

"Lucas has been my best friend my entire life. If he was into me, I-"

"You what?"

I paused.

"It just wouldn't be the same between us. Trust me when I tell you, he doesn't like me, nor has he ever, and don't believe the kid lying about his own name in order to have a more unique hipster appeal. Riley, you're beautiful. He'll love anything you wear because he loves you."

Riley smiled. By the time 4:30 came around, Riley and left the boutique with a beautiful rose colored dress embroidered with pearls at the neckline and a flowing bottom. She was ecstatic, as was I, and we were both on our way that afternoon with happy hearts and elated souls.

 _14 February 2016_

 _5:30 p.m._

 **Riley's POV**

Work was always a drag. Sitting next to Arietta and listening to her stories about her family cow's birth this past weekend, I could not be any more bored. But the Valentine's Dance was in just two hours, which pretty much made up for everything. The thought of Lucas Friar handing me a bouquet of flowers as I dramatically walked down my spiral staircase with grace and elegance gave me chills. His jaw would drop, seeing my flawless makeup, exquisite hair, and divine dress, and my mother would be in the distant, snapping photos of the most memorable moments of my life. Most teenagers would scold their mothers for 'over-doing' it that night. But I couldn't say I fit that stereotype. I loved the attention, and my mom and I have even derived a plan for her to crouch down behind the Chinese Evergreen in the lobby, taking the photos at an almost perfect 90° angle.

I should have known this idea was farfetched, though.

Arietta insisted on doing my hair with her "special" iron she'd ordered on an infomercial from 2005, and I agreed on doing my makeup. Not that I was okay with Arietta doing my hair, but you've gotta feel bad for the girl. Her only friend is that family cow, and with it's "postpartum depression", she hasn't been a good acquaintance these past few days.

I leaned forward, applying my pink lipstick and Arietta smiled with her curling iron in her left hand.

"You're a pretty girl, you know. This boy sure will be lucky to have you as a date," she said, grinning with her tongue between her braces, "and I'm sure Farkle will delighted to see your change of style."

I chuckled.

"Sorry?"

"You know, Farkle? Our boss?"

"I know who he is. Delighted at my change of style?"

"Your taste is stunning, and any boy, disregarding Farkle's previous remarks concerning your appearance, would love seeing a pretty face like this."

I blushed, ignoring the blatant fact that Arietta just subconsciously admitted Farkle was attracted to me, or whatever.

"When's your date picking you up?"

"Well, I've kind of had this long-running plan that he would meet me at my place for pictures," I began, picking up my phone, "but he hasn't called or texted me all day and I'm kind of worried."

Arietta frowned.

"Why don't you go find him?"

"The city of Miami is a tad big, don't you think?"

I was increasingly filled with discourage and an immense burden to find him, not only because of the dance but because I was his girlfriend and if roles were reversed, he would do the same for me. At least I would hope.

"You know what, you're right. Let's get out of here."

Picking up the bottom of my dress and slipping on my heels, Arietta led the way out, stopping by Farkle first to let him know.

In the lobby of the animal shelter was Farkle, looking in a handheld mirror as he gelled his hair back with a comb and fixed his bowtie. Surprisingly enough, Farkle was attending the dance, but the real question was if he had a date or was going solo. He looked absolutely handsome, contrary to popular belief, for such a dork, as he turned around and blushed at the sight of us.

"Oh," was all he could mutter out at first, "you… _two…_ look nice."

"Don't bluff. Isn't Riley's hair just to die for? In case you were wondering about purchasing, it's the Cindy Crawford Hair Wand 2005, available only on-"

"Farkle, we stopped by to tell you that we're going to have to take off early. My date isn't returning any of my calls, and I think it's kind of important to find him. You know, before the dance and everything."

"Oh, of course," he said, "but I can't let you two roam the night streets of Miami alone. Please, let me drive you."

"You don't have to do that."

"It'd be my pleasure."

I smiled, looking down at the floor.

"Let me just grab my coat and tell my girlfriend," he finished.

 _Girlfriend?_

Awkwardly, I stood next to Arietta with my hands folded, swaying back and forth a bit until I finally had to ask the burning question.

"Who's Farkle's girlfriend?"

Arietta turned to me, bug-eyed with a strange smile smeared on her face.

"And you care, why?"

I rolled my eyes.

"I couldn't be any _less_ interested in Farkle. I'm dating the cutest guy at Palm West. How do you upgrade from that?"

Arietta rolled her eyes back, scoffing a bit, before briefly answering,

"Her name is Isadora. Isadora Smackle. She's like, Greek or something."

A girl with long, brown hair and a short face came walking down the stairs, similar to my now shattered fantasy of my night with Lucas. Farkle took her hand as she took her final step, subtly smiling at him and then straightening out.

"Where, exactly, are we going?" she said, with a pompous undertone to her voice, flipping her hair over her shoulders dramatically.

"I have to help my friend find her date. Lucas Friar, you know of him?"

Isadora nodded her head, with slight expression of confusion and began to walk to Farkle's car, with extreme delicacy of course, escorted by her boyfriend.

Arietta raised a disapproving eyebrow to be, blinking slowly and sitting beside me in the backseat.

45 minutes had gone by, Isadora was restless, groaning of how hungry she was, and we'd only made one pit-stop—Mrs. Friar's apartment. Mrs. Friar was still in her scrubs, just settling in, and explained that the only time she'd seen Lucas was that morning before she'd left for work. He previously (and briefly) discussed the plans for the dance with her, and how he assumed they would meet there. Farkle, during this conversation, was a little appalled, as was I, shaking his head and raising his eyebrows occasionally.

Our next stop, per requests of the tired Isadora, was to finally go to the dance. Arietta was dropped off at her own house before, and I was left in the backseat with just Isadora playing with Farkle's hair to watch.

Upon entering the dance, couples would line up at the photographer's booth waiting to take their pictures, and I felt extremely uncomfortable denying his request to take my photo (alone, mind you). I sat at my table, while couples starting piling into the ballroom, and searched for Lucas in the meantime.

I _was_ the new girl, so it wasn't like I knew many people at this dance. The music eventually starting to play distantly in the background, as servers came around to our tables putting variations of salads and breads before us. The kids around me dug in, while I, like a widowed woman, sat beside the only seat in the house not filled by another body. It was embarrassing. But it wasn't like I could just leave.

"No show?" said Farkle behind me.

I looked up, in relief that it was someone I was familiar with.

Frowning, I replied, "Guess not."

"That's not like him. It must have been something important. Maybe you should let Mrs. Friar know, I'm sure she'd be worried."

I nodded, slowly turning back around.

"But hey, for the time being, why don't you have a good time and come sit by my table? Maybe pull up a chair or something- I'm sure the teachers wouldn't mind."

In theory, the idea of not being completely alone was tempting, but after being reminded of Isadora's _different_ traits, I declined.

"I don't want to be a third wheel or anything. I'm heading out soon anyways. I've gotta see what's going on with Lucas."

"Oh, come on. You'd be the least thing from a third wheel."

I laughed. _You're telling me?_

Later on in the evening, after agreeing to Farkle's proposition and being convinced enough to have a couple of drinks, my phone rang.

 _From: Lucas_

 _Hey! Just wanted to let you know I'm heading home now, in case you were needing me. Hope I didn't worry you. Just had to help a friend out with something. I'll explain everything when I get back soon. Love you._

I didn't answer.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: New chapter, yay :-). It's hard to write with school, but I'm doing my best. I can't exactly promise a chapter in the next three days, but Saturday night I will be free and most likely writing a couple of chapters. Anywho, enjoy this (very intense) chapter, and let me know what you think of it!

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

 _12 Hours Earlier_

 **Lucas POV**

"Lucas? Lucas, you gotta wake up"

Groggy, irritated, and extremely tired, I opened my eyes just enough to see a blonde standing before me. She was wearing a black sweatshirt with jeans, complemented by the bags under her eyes and stench of desperation.

She started shaking me.

"Get up Friar, I'm not playing."

I rolled over.

"What do you want?"

"I need you to help me with something."

It was 6:22 a.m. at the time, the sun had barely come up yet and I'm pretty sure Starbucks wasn't even open this early.

"I don't have any money, I can't take you to-"

"It's not about that, asshole!"

She grabbed my arm, and pulled me upright, slapping my cheek lightly to make sure I was conscious.

"I need your car."

"And I need a few more hours of sleep."

Going to lie back down, Maya slapped me, again, and not as lightly as before.

"What the hell is your problem?"

"Get dressed. I'll start the car."

Following her orders, as I really had no other choice, I dressed myself (poorly, now that I look back on it awake and fully-functioning) and went into my garage.

She sat in the passenger's side, tears pooled in her eyes, and took a deep breath after noticing I was staring.

"Drive."

"Excuse me?"

"Just go. I'll tell you the way once you get going."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on. Maya, you don't have to be afraid to talk to me."

She bit her lip, anger filling her insides, and dangerously laughed, which intimidated me.

"I'm not talking about it because I don't want to cry. And it's not just a _you_ thing, so don't go thinking you're all special- I hate crying. In front of anyone."

She turned sharply, her head facing the front, and took a deep breath again.  
"Drive."

I hit my hand on the steering wheel, agitated, and she jumped up, alarmed.

"You had me wake up at the crack of dawn wanting me to drive you someplace without my mother's permission and you won't even have the decency of telling me where in the blue hell we're going? I'm not doing this. Find another chauffeur, Maya."

I opened the driver's side door, about to go back into my house, until I heard Maya meekly call out, "Wait."

Slowly, I turned around, and she rested her head on the dashboard. Her fists were clenched, her breathing was irregular, and she looked up at me, extremely exhausted with red, swollen eyes and blotchy skin.

With a stuffy, broken voice, she whispered, "Josh cheated on me."

My stomach sunk.

I never liked Josh. At all, ever, really. But he was Maya's first love, so I accepted that.

Maya was absolutely taken by him one day on the bus. As she would always say, "Gorgeous brown hair, charming eyes, and total eye candy in a suit."

When he noticed Maya staring at him, he (very intentionally) bit his lip, grinned, and tucked a piece of hair back behind his ear, causing Maya to swoon and I to barf up in my own mouth. 16 year old Maya kept repeatedly asking me, "Should I go for it? Should I go over there and ask for his number?" and I, still obliviously in love with her, of course said no.

"He's a bit old, wouldn't you agree?"

She would roll her eyes at me, saying something along the lines of, "Love has no age," returning her glance to Josh, who couldn't take his eyes off her either.

Long story short, she went for it. And the two remained lovebirds for the following three years.

"That's- that's terrible, Maya. I'm so sorry."

Maya smiled, weakly, wiping the tears from under her eyes and managing to smile.

"It's okay," she said, with a little laugh, trying to get her breathing steady again.

My heart broke watching her cry. Slowly, I continued,

"How did you find out?"

She sniffled, and replied, "Let's just say a certain colleague of his posted a certain photo on a certain social media platform of the two of them getting... well, intimate."

I nodded, while Maya very uncomfortably repositioned herself in the passenger's seat.

"Noted."

A silence followed, as Maya struggled to clean herself up in my mirror with the one napkin I had in my glove box.

"So, may I ask where exactly we're going?"

"Georgia. Well, Atlanta specifically."

"That's like 600 miles away. Why would we go there?"

She smiled deviously, despite her mascara smeared under her tears and tears on her cheeks.

"Revenge."

The Florida Turnpike, much like it's name, was dull. It was a long, never-ending road of occasional accidents, construction worksites, and dull conversations. Especially when you have to listen to Maya talk about how "if she were a better girlfriend, she wouldn't have lost Josh."

Approaching Atlanta, Maya had me stop at a Lowes to pick up a "few things", and disappointingly, one of those things was not a candy bar. Or at least a form of sustainable energy. Instead, Maya threw a large bag of junk in my backseat, making sure I wouldn't see it, as she double-bagged it, and continued on with degrading herself in all ways possible.

"I never called Josh, only checked in on him once in awhile, hardly showed him any affection when I did see him-"

"Listen, if we drove 9 hours to Atlanta just for you to convince yourself you're the sucky one in the relationship and _not_ want to get revenge on this bastard, then you're a real shit person, and I'll turn around if you want me to."

Maya paused as if she was thinking about it.

" _Maya."_

"I'm not making you turn around. God, chill out."

"I'll chill out when I haven't gone over my leased mileage from this ridiculous road trip and haven't wasted over $100 in gas."

She sighed.

"I'm sorry, you're right. He's a jerk and he deserves what's coming."

"Not only that, but you need to stop putting yourself down so much. You did nothing wrong. When will you finally get that?"

She paused again, bit her lip as if she were contemplating again, and took another deep breath.

"Well, Atlanta is gorgeous, so if I'm blowing your entire day then I suck and I'm sorry. But we can go sightseeing or something, if you'd like?"

"I'd prefer just getting home without being arrested for vandalization first."

She kicked her feet up on the dashboard, crossing her arms.

"You know what I don't like about you? You're no fun. You never take risks, and you never do something that's merely out of line with the rules. Live a little, would you?"

I rolled my eyes.

"I took time out of my day to take you to Atlanta, didn't I?"

"Listen, if you didn't want to come with me to Atlanta so badly, why did you? I could have taken a million other people with me but I chose _you_ Lucas, so stop playing victim all the time and accept that you make some flaws in your judgements and you have no one to blame but yourself."

The remainder of the ride was silent.

"The lot is on your left. Just turn in there and stay in the car. I'll be back in ten minutes."

"Maya, wait, I-"

She opened the door, slammed it, and searched the parking lot of Josh's real estate agency for his car. From afar, I could hear spray paint cans being emptied and then thrown on the cement, a baseball bat slamming into the car side door, and the air from tires rapidly leaking out.

Maya walked back, as if business were done, and returned to my car without a word. I looked at her, expecting something, anything, but she was clearly upset with me, and only willing to tolerate me because I was her ride back.

"I don't understand why you're upset with me."

"Just drive, Lucas. God, do you have to make everything a sentimental moment?"

I turned off the car.

"I'm not going to drive home until we're on good terms. Maya, you're important to me. I can't sit through a 9 hour car ride knowing that you hate me, for whatever the hell I did. I understand you're going through a rough time, but-"

"When will you understand that I don't hate you? I hate myself. I hate my decision-making, I hate how nothing ever goes right for me, I hate that on your _first_ try at love you get lucky, and I hate that I'm such a goddamn idiot. I hate myself, Lucas, and none of your lovey-dovey talks are going to make my life any better, so just drive me home."

Her eyes became glossy again, and she frantically searched around the car for an escape route, but it didn't take long for her to break. She clenched her fists, bit the inside of her cheek, tried to take deep breaths, but to no relief. Maya's life was spiraling, and unlike her family problems or her father abandoning her, she couldn't hide from this or ignore it. It was all right here, all right in front of her, and it was as if she'd never confronted her emotions until this very moment.

"How could he cheat on me? Who else could there be? Why wasn't I enough?" she whimpered, tears flowing from her eyes and her insides shaking. I took her hand in mine, although she was resistant at first, and lifted her chin with my hand.

"Maya, none of this is your fault. People cheat because they're inconsiderate douchebags who pay no mind to other's feelings. Josh didn't care about you when he cheated. Hell, he didn't even care about you this entire time if he ultimately did this. And Maya, none of this is your fault. It's not your fault that Josh never cared about you. Josh never got to see how beautiful you are. Sure, he saw that physically, you were attractive, but your beauty on the inside is worth so much more value than that. You are not cheap, Maya. You're a woman worth respect, importance, gratitude, and so much more."

And suddenly I couldn't catch my breath.

It all happened so fast. Maya Hart's lips danced across mine, her tangerine lip balm tingling my mouth and leaving me with butterflies all over. Her cheeks, soft and damp, brushed across my own, making me yearn for more- yearn for _more_ of Maya. She was so fragile and innocent at the moment, it was as if her feelings had momentarily taken over as pilot and acted upon her heart, when she pulled back with an expression of fear and regret. Her mouth gaped and her eyes widened, like secret of life had fallen upon her, leaving only her to bestow this glorious information to the rest of the world. She quickly turned back to the front, throwing her face in her hands and rubbing her eyes.

" _Riley."_

 _Riley._

Riley was at home, while she was subconsciously being cheated on by her best friend and boyfriend. Riley was at home, while I, so dumbfounded by my still underlying love for Maya, unknowingly cheated on her, forgetting of Riley's existence. Riley was at home, waiting for me at the Valentine's Dance, while I completely forgot of not only the dance but also her. Riley was at home, while I was being unfaithful to her. The passion Maya and I shared in that split second had vanished with the sound of Riley's name, her beautiful name, leaving the two of us with an overwhelming guilt that put an immense pressure on the car. I looked at Maya, she looked at me, and then I drove. Drove back home for seven hours, without a word said.

At 9:54 Maya took my phone. She typed something out, sent it, and then whispered,

"It's never going to be the same, is it?"

I shook my head.

The Florida Turnpike, like it's name, was dull. It was a dull, never ending road of car accidents, construction, and misery.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I keep writing chapters thinking they're super short and wanting to continue but then end up saying screw it, uploading it, and realizing they're actually mad long. Weird.

Writing during school is hard. Not sure if it's just I don't have motivation or whatever, but I'm doing my best. I'm gonna be doing community service soon too so not sure how this will work out. Let me know you like this. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this tbh, I feel like no one is reading it or liking it for that matter, but I have such good ideas coming up so it would be a shame for me to stop. But yeah, these next couple of chapters are kinda filler or whatever. At least this one is. It's the calm (not really though) after the storm. Enjoy and leave a review please :)

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

 **Maya's POV**

I hadn't left my room that weekend when we returned unless absolutely necessary. By absolutely necessary, I mean the toilet and to grab a protein bar every couple of hours so I didn't die of malnutrition.

My curtains were closed, my lights were off, I stunk of numerous body odors considering I hadn't the willpower to shower in the past few days, and the only source of light in my room was my television playing _The Bachelor._

I wasn't sure if I had the energy to even think of the situation with Lucas or if I was just afraid. Afraid of something that I wasn't sure of, or afraid of the subsequent consequences if I _did_ think about it. But tomorrow was Monday, meaning that not only would I have to confront Riley, but also Lucas. The thought made my stomach churn.

Riley kept texting me that weekend, asking me to get lunch, asking me to "catch up", asking me "what's wrong?" when she knew exactly what was wrong. She knew that Lucas stood her up, and chances were Lucas was probably doing the same thing as I was this weekend—loathing in self pity. She had to have figured it out by now, right?

 **Riley's POV**

My eyes searched the cafeteria frantically, one hand entangled with my boyfriend's and the other holding my lunch tray. Lucas sighed.

"Maya probably didn't come to school today, let's just-"

"Shut your piehole, Heehaw."

I dragged Lucas behind me as I relentlessly scanned each table. He groaned, and I abruptly stopped.

"Riley!"

"Why do you not care about Maya? She could be hurt or, god forbid, _kidnapped!_ She would tell me if she missed school. I'm not going to stop until I find her, and you shouldn't either. She's your _best_ friend, Lucas."

I continued walking on my own, until I saw a blonde with a black hoodie on her head. She was crouched over the table, with a nutrition bar beside her and a can of diet coke. Quickly, I approached the table, my heels clicking against the tile floor rapidly, and sat down.

She looked up.

"Oh, shit Riley, you can't be near me," she said, coughing periodically and clearing her throat. Her eyes were bloodshot and her breath was excruciating.

"When was the last time you took a shower?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Riley, I'm serious. Go sit with," she looked up slowly, saw Lucas approaching, and quickly returned her glance back to the table, "Lucas. Go sit with Lucas."

Lucas and Maya exchanged a swift glance, and Maya flipped her hair over her shoulder and gave another faux cough.

"Is there something I'm missing here? You two are acting a bit… weird."

"Nothing. Nothing at all, babe. Let's go grab something to eat—Maya's right. She's probably contagious."

Maya nodded in agreement, in the most energetic fashion I've seen from her today.

"Maya, what's going on?"

Maya let out a sigh, and whispered in response,  
"I have mono."

My mouth gapped, she immediately nodded, followed by another cough, and I left with a look of concern.  
"Call me tonight," I gestured, as Lucas led the way to the lunch line.

 **Lucas POV**

1:37. Last period Chemistry. Mrs. Consolas had been giving a lecture, but I couldn't keep my eyes off the clock. Or Maya, for that matter.

I decided today I would talk to Maya about everything that had happened, since she was too stubborn to confront me. It was as if _I_ did something wrong. Like _I_ kissed her.

Maya decided to sit next to freshman Jimmy Poole today, who last week used a microscope to closely examine his saliva. She was clearly disgusted, but apparently it was worth it if it meant she could avoid me. But she wouldn't be able to avoid me today.

My plan was clearly detailed, written in the notes of my phone with diagrams to assist and strategic thinking behind it. A minute before the bell would ring, I would ask Mrs. Consolas to use the lavatory, but instead wait outside the classroom by a locker. When the students would flood through the surrounding doors, I'd keep my composure, looking for the blonde with the black hoodie and ghostly pale complexion. After seizing her, she'd have no choice but to accompany me to the janitor's closet, where I'd confess my lifelong love for her, she'd be touched, and her and I would secretly date, until of course Riley left for college, and we'd then elope on one of the many Caribbean islands, having a _Beach Boys_ tribute later at the reception. It was the perfect plan. Until, of course, I'd been reminded of the school policy regarding bathroom breaks at the end of the day.

"No student is allowed to use the lavatory during the last ten minutes of the day."

I dropped my head to the table, groaning, and Riley turned to me with a giggle.  
"You okay there? I know the feeling. UTI's are a pain."

 _Yeah, real funny._

Riley rubbed my back supportively, while I squirmed in my seat, and she whispered,  
"What are you doing later?"

My head bolted up. Riley's face read intimate, while mine read _Urinary Tract Infection, no can do._ I frowned, and she nodded sympathetically.

"I understand."

Suddenly, the clock struck 1:40, and the bell rang. Before saying goodbye to Riley, I jolted out of my seat, running towards the door, because of my Urinary Tract Infection, obviously. Maya, just as fast, sped ahead in the hallway, but I was able to grab her arm, pull her back, and put my hand over her mouth, because Maya Hart would most definitely scream "Rape!" in a crowded hallway like this.

She kicked, jabbed her elbows into me, licked my hand (which, I must say, almost worked) and screamed, but to no relief. I'd finally had her right where I needed her.

"Are you trying to _rape_ me or something? I'll call the cops right now," she scolded, holding up her cellphone and trying to catch her breath.

"Maya, I'm just here to talk."

"That's what they all say."

Again, she tried to shove past me, relentlessly, grinding her teeth and body-slamming me into the door.

"You aren't going to get past me," I laughed.

"Yeah, but I can try."

Tears streamed down her face as she got weaker trying to shove past me. It wasn't because she was physically tired, but rather emotionally. She took a deep breath and sunk against the wall, sitting on a bucket as her heart raced through her chest.

"Maya, I know you have feelings for me, and that's-"  
"I don't have feelings for you."

I paused.

"Then how can you explain-"  
"It was in the spur of the moment. I was heartbroken. You were there. I was thinking about Josh. You were there. It was nothing, Lucas. Get over yourself."

Again, I paused, pursing my lips.

"You're lying."

She laughed.

"But I'm not. So if we can get on with this, I'd appreciate it. I have dinner with my mom at 5."

"Maya, whether you believe me or not, I have been in love with you since the third grade," I paused again, choked up, "I've been in love with you since that day I was being bullied by Ronnie Evans and you told him to bug off. I've been in love with you since you walked with me at recess because I had no one else to talk to. I've been in love with you my entire life, why can't you just understand that? I'm not here talking to you about this to insult or embarrass you, I'm here because I want to be with you, and I'm willing to sacrifice _everything_ for that. _Everything._ "

A tear rolled down my cheek as I waited for a response, but Maya was stone cold. You couldn't see her blink, her face was blank, and her body was motionless. It was as if she was paralyzed.

"Maya, I-"

"You're an inconsiderate asshole, Lucas Friar. You couldn't give less of a damn about how your own girlfriend feels about this entire mess. You lie to her, you _pretended_ you loved her, but why? If this was your ultimate plan, why did you have to do this to Riley? I could never be with someone as cowardly as you. You try to hide behind your macho persona and big-bad quarterback football jersey, but what's the point, Lucas? You weren't even manly enough to tell me you liked me for ten years. What made you think you even had a chance with me?"

She laughed again, easily pushed her way past me, and was off.

 **Riley's POV**

The front desk, per usual was slow. As I ticked my pen against my desk and kept a returning glance to the clock placed above the office, the bells of the door rung, and in came Isadora with a faux fur coat on and sunglasses. Despite, you know, us living in Miami.

"Isadora! What can I help you with today?" I said with a bright smile. She, however, wasn't as friendly in response, raising an eyebrow in my direction and shoving past me to get to the office. After poking her head into the office and not seeing her boyfriend, she turned to me on her heel, with her Chanel bag hanging lazily on her wrist.

"Riley," she began, returning the smile, "I need you to do me a favor."

She handed me a brown paper bag, grease on the bottom, and tilted her head at me.

"It's for Farkle," she whispered with a wink, as if I assumed it were for me.

Farkle came running down the stairs, wiping his forehead with a towel, and approached his girlfriend with a grin.  
"Aw, Izzie, you didn't have to-"

"Don't call me that, and of course I had to. I didn't want my hubby to starve."

With her high heeled boots on, Isadora towered over Farkle as she hugged him, and I almost closed my eyes when she continued on to suck off his face. When Farkle subtly pushed her off, she groaned, rolled her eyes, and flipped her hair over her shoulder, glancing at me as if it were my fault.

"Why don't you get going honey? You need your beauty rest."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Since when was it okay for you to abdicate me to the stereotypical feminine roles played by the submissive housewives of society," she began, crossing her arms, "but if you insist. I was going to get going anyways."

She leaned down to kiss Farkle's cheek, sashayed away with a swing of her hips, and jetted off in her black BMW, complemented by her bejeweled license plate reading _D!VA._

"She's a keeper, huh?"

Farkle and I watched as her car aggressively merged into traffic, I nodding my head slowly with a laugh but he standing there oblivious to what his life had come to. You gotta feel bad for the kid. _Isadora Smackle_ as a girlfriend? That's gotta take some emotional toll on his life.

"She's a good person, deep down. Behind the four inches of makeup and superstition lies the girl I fell in love with in the ninth grade."

I looked up at Farkle, whose eyes were still glued to the window and mouth was turned into a faint smile.

"That's so sweet, I-"

"Let's not get sentimental at work, yeah? You've got some paperwork to do with Arietta. Let's get to it."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 _10 Years Earlier_

 _The first day of third grade. Exciting. Nauseating. A mix of feelings for the big blue eyed Lucas Friar, who, had just moved from Houston, Texas to Miami. His dad had moved the family for work opportunities, and despite Lucas' on-going anxiety and recent therapy sessions, he uprooted their entire lives for a fresh start in sunny Miami, Florida._

" _You'll do fine today, Lucas," began Mrs. Friar, with a smile from ear to ear as she fixed her son's bowtie, "I hear Miami is one of the friendliest places on Earth."_

 _Which, of course, was a lie, but the kid was 8. You've gotta feed him a little false hope once in awhile._

 _The boy nodded, Mrs. Friar kissed her son on the cheek, and little Lucas Friar was off on the bus, his Transformers lunch box tucked securely under his arm and his green backpack a wee bit too high above his bottom._

 _The bus ride to school was standard. Spit balls flying from all directions, elementary schoolers cursing profoundly and nearly getting into fist fights, if it weren't for the bus monitor, and Slim Jim packages all about the scuffed-up floor. Little Lucas sat in the very first seat, head up against the window. He was all to himself, praying to God nobody would make a comment about his appearance. And sure enough, he was blessed. All until he arrived at school in Mrs. Stacy's third grade classroom._

" _Settle down, kids," Mrs. Stacy would cry out from her desk, although she didn't actually mean it. She could very obviously care less, as she sat at her seat, heels up on a stack of textbooks placed on the cherry oak top, scrolling through her Facebook feed as Johnny Jr. and Alexander were about to pull a full-on UFC fight by the cubbies._

 _Lucas sat by the window, doing his best to look occupied by playing with a train set until a pretty blonde with a My Little Pony sweater on sat beside him._

" _You look bored."_

 _And so the harassment began. Lucas was expecting this, but from a girl? A measly three and a half foot girl, mind you. Lucas slowly backed away, and the girl snatched a train from his reach and started to move it around the tracks._

" _Vroom, vroom," whispered the young girl, as she aimlessly moved the train about. Lucas raised an eyebrow in suspicion, and slowly, he followed her lead._

" _My name is Maya," announced the blonde, "I'll sit with you at lunch today. My mama packed me a peanut butter sandwich."_

 **Maya's POV**

School had increasingly become less weird. Surprising, I know, considering Lucas is literally pretending to like his girlfriend, when in reality he's in love with me, or whatever.

At lunch, Lucas and I would start to make eye contact. Not like that intense eye contact that means-something-deeper-in-the-movies eye contact, but just casual glances like all buds do.

"This weekend _The Longest Ride_ is coming out. You, me, Farkle, Lucas?" says Riley during lunch, while Lucas' eyes met mine. I looked down, per usual.

"Sounds like a plan!" I said, smiling at Riley who was surprised by unusual perkiness.

"Someone's a bit chipper," said Riley, raising an eyebrow, "Explain."

"Well, I've had a bit of an epiphany," I began, "I realized what I want in my life."

"Which would be?"

"Happiness. I want to be happy."

Suddenly, Lucas' head popped up, and his eyes traced between Riley and I, but I continued to ignore him. It was like he fueled me. He fueled me to be this eager, enthusiastic little twat that I know he hates deep down. Kinda like Riley, which is really rotten.

Riley smiled, patting my back, and Lucas continued to look confused. Lately, all he's been is confused, but I shouldn't be one to pass any judgements. I too was confused, just not as prominent in my emotions, which I should try to work on. It would've saved me from a whole lot of this mess I'm in.

 _3 Hours Later_

My newly found positive outlook on life helped improve my aura greatly. Not only did I smile at every person who I made eye contact with (which, I must admit, around 70% of the people found terribly creepy, but I digress) but my actual life problems seemed to fade into the background. My problem with Lucas was temporary and would be easily resolved eventually. Until then, I had to focus on _me._ I, myself, am a much more important target to focus my every thought on rather than some boy. And I do need some me time. I need time to figure out me. And not me being with Lucas or my problems with Lucas, but things like college and what the hell I'm going to do with my life after I graduate from this shithole.

And then a hand grabbed mine, pulled me into a side hallway, and I realized it was happening. Again.

"I'm not doing this again."

Lucas, all sweaty from gym with a towel around his neck, stood before me, with that concerned-puppy-dog look plastered on his annoying face all over again. This whole positive outlook on life seemed to work on everyone but him.

"You aren't serious about that movie, are you?"

"Are you?"

"Of course not."

"Well, why not?"

Lucas looked at me like I was stupid. Which, I was, but that's not the point.

"We can barely control ourselves in school. What makes you think we'll survive in a dark stuffy movie theatre?"

I almost threw up. Seriously. I felt a bit of that hamburger I ate from lunch come up my throat, had to grasp the wall for support, and finally settled down before I could turn to Lucas and bitch out this incompetent asshole.

"Are you implying you and I have sexual tension? Some sort of unspoken, undeclared relationship in which neither of us discuss our feelings nor do anything merely romantic?"  
"We kissed in the car that one time."  
"That isn't the point."

Lucas looked down, then looked up again, trying to regain his composure.

"I still have feelings for you. Whether you change personalities or not, I still have feelings for you. And I know somewhere, deep down inside that heartless body standing before me, is a girl who feels the same way about me."

I smirked. He couldn't be serious, could he?

"Look, I know you're into all this lovey-dovey bullshit, and that's cool and all, but save it for Riley. I'm not into it."

I turned to walk away, and Lucas, yet again, grabbed my hand, but laced his fingers through mine.

"Tell me you don't feel anything, and I'll leave you alone."

The hallway suddenly got silent, and Lucas was looking deep into my eyes, with his warm hand entangled in mine. It was awkward, to be honest. I just stood against the wall, as his hand was awkwardly groping mine. But I couldn't say I didn't feel _anything._ There was something there, something I couldn't make out, something I couldn't comprehend, and it had me back at square one Maya—lost, confused and wanting to move to Iceland to become a sheep herder.

"I don't feel anything."

And I left.

 _2:56_

Reality was hitting me. It was cold, it was hard, and it was brutally honest, and I wasn't sure if I could take it. Reality sucked.

It came at me like a train, the solution to all of this mess. And I didn't want to do it, but I knew I had to. It was the only way. It was the only way.

I scrambled for my phone in my bag, my heart racing through my chest and my hands trembling. I could barely search through my contacts to find what I needed.

The rest of the day and the classes following were standard. I was strong. I was independant. I didn't let my feelings show when Lucas held my hand. I didn't let the urge to cry out and hug and kiss him all at once overrule my dignity, the puny amount of pride I had left.

And it felt great. It was an amazing feeling, being powerful. Until I had gotten off my bus, let the events of my day settle in, and realize what an awful mess I was in. I could hide behind my female fatale aura as long as I wanted, but it wouldn't hide the fact that I had emotions that needed to be dealt with. I could be beautiful and cruel as long as I wanted, but Lucas was right. Somewhere, somewhere behind my big, mean exterior was a heart. Sure, this may have been the inappropriate way to deal with this jumble of emotions, but it would work. It sure as hell would work.

I dialed the phone number quickly, praying it wouldn't go to voicemail. It couldn't go to voicemail. It couldn't.

And when I heard heavy breathing and a raspy voice slur out a, "Hello?" I sat up.

"Josh? Can I see you?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Riley's POV**

4 p.m. rush hour at the shelter was seriously crazy. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, how busy could a freaking _animal shelter_ get, but you'd be surprised.

Phones were ringing off the hook, Arietta was searching relentlessly through a binder of animal records indicating previous health issues, and Farkle was in the front developing a sweat talking to the Miami Dog Officer.

Recently, Farkle decided to step business up a bit for days like these by promoting me to secretary. And really, all that means is that I get to sit at the front desk with an earpiece and boss Arietta around in the back room.

"I need medical records on Cecillia the snake, stat," I'd call out, and Arietta would jump out of her chair and rush into the filing cabinet in a panic to find everything I needed. It was truly empowering.

With one hand holding the telephone to my ear talking to a concerned dog owner and the other motioning Arietta to bring me the documents, my cellphone rang. Quickly, I glanced down, just to see what it was.

 _From: Mom_

 _Surprise waiting for you at home :-)_

This can't be good.

As the day digressed and the clock seemed to tick faster, my shift had ended, my stomach was churning, and I'd finally made it back home to find an obnoxious RV from 1972 parked right in front of my complex. I figured it couldn't have been mine, until I unlocked my apartment door and saw sitting at my kitchen table Papa Matthews, decked out in camouflage, with his rifle in one hand and oxygen tank in the other. My mother smiled at me as I slowly hung my bag on the hook, afraid to look in my Papa's direction in fear of what this weekend would bring, and then Auggie tapped my shoulder.

"We're going camping!"

 _Camping. This couldn't be any more embarrassing._

The RV was rough on Florida's bumpy roads. It wasn't that now that I'd relocated back to the city I'd lost my "country" side, but it was that I never gave a damn in the first place about hunting deer with my brother and Papa and having to smell the animals in the trunk decomposing on the way back.

"What's the matter, sweetcheeks?" Papa announced, turning to me softly and squeezing one of my cheeks.

I couldn't even _fake_ hide my resting bitch face right now. It was too real.

"Where are we even going to go camping in Florida in the first place? I mean, at least back in Maine there were some actual deer to hunt, but all there is here is alligators and-"

Auggie and Papa Matthews smiled ear to ear, deviously. And at that moment, I considered jumping out of the car and rolling for it.

The campground my Papa had brought us to was okay, except for the fact that it smelt like the Animal Kingdom on a hot summer day and there was piles of horse shit everywhere, but hey, that's granted. Avoiding the hot shit and also lugging the enormous suitcase my mother packed for me, I followed Auggie who led my Papa to our cabin. Outside the cabin was a fire pit and some long sticks next to it, I assume for roasting marshmallows, and a couple of plastic green chairs, which looked like they hadn't been washed in a couple of decades, at least.

Inside the cabin, which I must mention was _not_ air-conditioned, a moose head hung above the sofa in the living area. A small kitchen was beside that living area, and two bedrooms were accompanied by it. It was pretty standard place, besides the whole alligator hunting thing they've got going on.

"What do you kids say about having a nice old styled campfire? S'mores on me, of course. I'll be back" said Papa, walking with a sad, but adorable hunch to the back door and lighting the campfire.

In the meantime, I threw myself on my bunk and groaned, checking my phone for the first time in hours. Luckily, there was service, but after reading my lockscreen, I was wishing there wasn't.

 _From: Lucas_

 _Riley, we need to talk. Now._

I raised an eyebrow, and sat up as my heart rate skyrocketed.

 _What could I have done? I didn't do anything._

Thoughts raced through my mind, trying to piece together the last few days of my life and where Lucas could have seen me, but everything was blank. I'd gone to school, got home, did my homework for a couple of hours, and headed straight to the animal shelter. I was innocent.

 _To: Lucas_

 _What's up?_

It's always really hard to stay "chill" in these situations, as Maya would call it, but with a guy like Lucas, it was mandatory. Tapping my fingers relentlessly against the oak headboard, I groaned, and fell on my back again.

 _From: Lucas_

 _Where are you?_

 _To: Lucas_

 _Surprise visit from my Grandpa. In Tampa for the weekend. What's wrong?_

A few moments passed, and I realized how awful that sounded. My _grandpa? Tampa?_ It totally sounded like I was cheating, or at least up to something.

 _From: Lucas_

 _It's Maya. She's back with Josh. Have fun with your Grandpa, though._

I jolted up. My stomach suddenly felt sick. My head was spinning. _Lucas Friar was mad at me._ My first boyfriend, my first relationship, will all end because of my freaking grandfather. Scrambling to pick up my phone and reply, Auggie popped his head in my room.

"We're _reaaady!"_

"I'll be out in a few."

"You'll be out now," said Papa, coming in and casually taking my phone out of my hand.

"You can't do that."

"I most certainly can."

And he most certainly could. The entire weekend following, I was phone-less, which was absolutely painful at first but slowly resolved. Looking up at the big stars in the clear sky, I smiled.

"It's pretty up here," I said softly, as Auggie had been sleeping in his chair and it was just me and my Papa.

"Ain't it so," he answered, smiling over at me, "Who's that boy you been texting?"

I chuckled.

"Pardon?"

"Lucas? A boy, I'd hope."

My face turned three shades of red. Luckily though, it was dark.

"Just a guy I like talking to."

"Just a _guy?"_

"He's- he's my boyfriend. For right now, at least."

And my Papa sat up, and looked me dead in the eye.

"My little Riley's got a _boyfriend_?" he exclaimed, obnoxiously holding his hand to his heart.

I giggled.

"It's not that big of a deal-"

"-Not that big of a deal? Riley, a first boyfriend is a huge deal!"

I blushed, again.

"We've only been dating a couple of months."

"Still. I want you to know how special you are, and no matter what, if he treats you wrong, you end it. You got me?"

"I've got you."  
"Good."

And after that, he fell asleep, and it was just me and the stars.

 _9:24 a.m._

Somehow, someway, the three of us ended up inside, and I reckon Papa Matthews was the mastermind behind that. I wasn't even going to ask how he pulled that off.

The cabin was muggy, my blankets were sprawled out on my mattress, and I yawned. Getting up quietly and trying to avoid the creaks in the floor, I tip-toed to the bathroom when I realized my toothbrush hadn't been unpacked. So, me being my nosy and impatient self, decided to go into Papa's bunk and search through his bag for one.

There were old newspapers, bottles of aged bourbon, a fishing net, and a cap, but no toothbrush.

"Papa?" I whispered. No answer.

"Papa? You up?" I repeated, but still no answer. He slept like a rock, but my teeth were going to fall out of my mouth if I didn't find some toothpaste and a toothbrush fast.

I sat by his bedside, watching as he slept with a faint smile. I shook his arm just a bit; to wake him up, but to wake him up in a way where he'd be able to fall back asleep.

Still sleeping.

I shook him harder. Didn't budge.

 _Papa, papa wake up._

His whole body convulsed as I shook him, relentlessly and stubbornly despite not getting a response. My heart started to pound through my chest. My breathing was tight and my breaths short as I quickly searched for a heart beat, a sign of breathing, a sign of life, _anything._ And when I checked to see if he was breathing, a tear streamed down my cheek, a weak, immature symbol of a young girl who has no clue how to handle any of this. The symbol of a young girl who's stuck in Tampa, surrounded by alligator hunters and her dead grandfather.

I picked up the landline in the kitchen, dialing 911 as fast as I could. And when they asked me what was wrong, I burst. Now it was me shaking, shaking uncontrollably and crying, crying to the woman on the phone. She thought I was in an urgent situation. And at first I thought I was too. But when I realized he was far too dead and gone and there was no saving him, I just stayed on the line, crying to a woman I'd never met, for she was all I had. She was all I had except for a measly little seven year old, who was still asleep and didn't care to check on the crazy girl in his kitchen who was having a breakdown.

They came to get the body later. The paramedics, and all them. And one of the police officers said a couple of things to me, but after that, it was just me and Auggie in that cabin, all by ourselves to smell the stench of death and the grief that followed, until our parents came to pick us up.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

" _Maybe, maybe in another time, or-or another life, Lucas, you and I could be together. We could be happy together. We could have that condo up North you've always dreamed of, and we could hold hands in public without me worrying about Riley. I could- I could kiss you, and not feel guilty about it a minute later. I love you, I do, but it's not right, not right in this time or this life."_

 _Maya took a deep breath and wiped the tears from under her eyes. She sat down from watching herself in the mirror, watching herself rehearse endless times, until her small little fragile heart couldn't take it anymore. She was broken. Maya Hart was officially a broken girl._

 _She laid back for a moment, her emotions overwhelming her, and threw a pillow at her wall. She cried. She cried for hours after that. But there was nothing she could do, nothing she could do in this lifetime._

 **Maya's POV**

A knock was heard at my window around ten. Jolting up, my eyes searched the dark surroundings, squinting to make out a figure. It was Lucas, and I sighed. I quickly wiped the tears from under my eyes, hid the residue of tissues scattered among my comforter, and opened the window just a crack.

"Can we talk?"

The boy didn't care to change out of his pajamas, per usual, which made me crack a smile. I took a deep breath.

"There's nothing to talk about, Lucas. It's life."

I turned around and walked back to my bed. I sat down, swinging my feet, trying to distract myself from crying again, and he, clearly angry, followed and sat right beside me.

"It's _life?_ Maya, why are you doing this to yourself?"

I turned my direction to him.

"Didn't you say, if I didn't feel anything, we were done? You would leave me alone about all of this?"

"Just because you said you didn't feel anything doesn't mean you _didn't_ feel anything."

He had a point. I was too tired and emotionally drained to fight back on this one, especially considering he was right, so I let it fly, and laid back on my bed, closing my eyes and pretending the last few weeks of my life never happened.

"I miss you," he whispered in a soft, tender voice, which made me open an eye to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

"Then let's just pretend none of this ever happened, and go back to the way it used to be."

"The way it used to be was no better than this."

"Maybe for you it wasn't."

"Don't act like you didn't have feelings for me."

I laughed, shaking my head and then placing it in my hands. I wanted to scream. My migraine was killing me. This awful, awful pink elephant in the room was destroying me. It was destroying Lucas. My feelings, our feelings, _Riley_ was destroying my life. And then I remembered that I was graduating in a couple of months, which meant that, in a couple of months, I'd be out of here, and so would Lucas and so would Riley and so would that kid Farkle, and we'd _never_ see each other again, except for maybe a high school reunion. Even then, in the far, far future, I'll be married to Josh, living the luxurious life of a housewife, and Lucas will be married to Riley and they'll have three kids and they'll be living in New Hampshire and they'll be _happy_. Because me, Maya Hart, I'm not able to provide that kind of happiness in the long term for Lucas. He deserves better than me. He deserves better.

"I don't have feelings for you, Lucas. And you don't have feelings for me. These feelings, these are temporary. They're fake. They're kids being kids feelings. We aren't real, Lucas. You and me, we can't work. Riley though, Riley's forever."

I was dozing off. He probably thought I wasn't making much sense, which I wasn't, but my intentions were true.

"Maya, you-"

"-Go to sleep Lucas. You're tired, you're delirious, just like me. We're just kids. And after all this settles, when we all go to college, I'll never see you again, so what's the point?"

I laughed, but he clearly wasn't taking the joke.

"I love you. But this won't work. Not in this lifetime."

So I closed my eyes after that, and when I opened them an hour or so later, he wasn't there, and a tear trickled down my cheek again as I tossed and turned for the remainder of the night.

 _9:57 a.m._

My hair was in a nest when I arrived to Riley's for her Papa's funeral. The entire situation was terrible. I could never imagine finding a dead body, nevermind it being my own grandfather's, so when I saw Riley, the lifeless, emotionless Riley, I ran to hug her. Her body collapsed into mine. She was so heavy. Her eyes were so dark. She really _was_ lifeless.

I looked around Topanga's living room while the funeral car outside was loading the endless amount of gifts and flowers the family brought. Everyone was crammed inside this little living room, _everyone._ Riley's distant cousin Maggie, who, in college supposedly tried to get it with Cory, was there, snacking on some strawberries while Topanga gave her a death stare from the kitchen. And then there was Grandma Edna, who didn't know where the hell she was, despite her children assuring her she was in no danger, and she'd be back at the nursing home soon. These people, crazy or not, they were all there for the same reason— because they were a family. Families will go out of their way to support you. These people, they came from all different places, from Maine to Arizona, all the way here just to support Riley and her family. And I wish I had that, those people that you can always count on to talk to and those people that will always be there for you to support you. But I didn't, and all I had was Riley, this one person, this one life that I value so, so much. And if anything were to ever happen to her, I don't know what I'd do. It scares the hell out of me.

Riley budged me with her elbow, awakening me from my trance.

"You ready to go?"

"Yeah."

 _10:45 a.m._

Exiting the first car leading the line were Riley and her immediate family- Auggie, Cory, and Topanga. Riley, still a wreck, waited until my mother's busted up mini van arrived, and walked inside with me, hand in hand.

The funeral parlor was in a quaint village outside of Miami. It was quiet, which was an unusual peacefulness I was not well adjusted to, but also gloomy. Inside was a small lobby, with old furniture and a big, overwhelming shelf of books that had three inches of dust on them. While I was struggling to read the titles, I turned to Riley, but she wasn't there.

Riley had been talking to a boy in a suit. A scrawny boy, which is why I say boy rather than man. I assumed he was one of her cousins, or something, until I recognized the damned haircut and had to see for myself.

 _Farkle Minkus._ The deceitful Farkle Minkus had been waiting for Riley at the parlor, with a bouquet of roses and his best suit that his mother probably ironed for him. I rolled my eyes as he handed Riley the bouquet, Riley gushing as the dullness had suddenly been lifted from her spirit.

"Shouldn't you be at school?" I asked, stating purely the obvious.

" _Maya."_

"The same question goes for you, shortstack. I'd figure with your grades, you'd actually want to attend."

Farkle was witty and quick on his feet. He was good. He was challenging. And again, he had a point, and we were kind of in a funeral parlor, so I bit my tongue, raging in humiliation and anger, and allowed Farkle to continue sweet-talking Riley.

 _11:30 a.m._

I yawned as I ate a blueberry muffin, at a table, all by myself, in the back of an ugly reception room. Riley had gone to say "goodbye" to Farkle, which really meant she was going to talk with him in the parking lot for an hour about space and the creation of the universe and the fault in the theory of evolution.

I was going to find a way to eliminate that kid, his presence, his being, his _threat_ he brought to the table, but I couldn't figure out one that didn't involve hurting Riley. Riley enjoyed talking to him, I know, but he wasn't any good for her. Don't ask me how I knew, I just knew.

To my surprise, Riley returned in less than an hour, 36 minutes to be exact, and sat beside me, her hands folded and a smile on her face.

"Someone is a little chipper."

"I'm fine."

She broke off a piece of my muffin, swallowed it quickly, and then rested her chin on her palm.

"Nothing is going on between you and Farkle, right?"

Riley's eyes widened, the veins in her forehead bulged, and she quickly sat up, flipping her hair over her shoulder and clearing her throat.

"What would make you think that?" she asked, answering her own question as her posture looked shakier by the second and a sweat developed on her forehead.

"Well, I mean, for one, Lucas didn't even show up-"

"-He has a busy life, _Maya,"_ she scolded, motioning me to keep my voice down, "he told me he was really sorry he couldn't make it. He had a Spanish test second period. You can't miss that kind of stuff."

I burst into laughter, and Riley, again, scolded me, hitting my arm and placing her pointer finger against her lips.

"A _Spanish_ test?"

"He's failing. In our relationship, we want what's best for one another, and this, we decided, was mutually the best thing for the two of us."

I took a sip of my orange juice. _Mhm._

"Enough about me though," began Riley, repositioning herself in her chair and turning her entire body towards me, "what's going on with Josh?"

 _Shit._

"I don't know. What _is_ going on with Josh?" I replied sarcastically, holding the vulture off for as long as I could.

She rolled her eyes. She was serious, and I was screwed.

"Lucas told me that you got back with him," she answered, seriously, "is this true?"

 _Obviously it's true, you moron._

"We're just talking again, Riles. You can't seriously believe everything that knucklehead tells you, right?"

Riley looked offended. She licked her lips, took a deep breath, and replied,

"Why can't I? He's my boyfriend, isn't he?"

I bit my lip.

"You're right. Shouldn't have said anything. You know, just growing up with him you tease him all the time, and I remembered that you have a- a _different_ relationship with him. Which is cool, and all."  
Riley raised an eyebrow, and blinked very slowly.

"When does he lie? Lie, like, lie to me?"

There was no getting out of this one.

"Lucas is a nice guy, you know that, right?"

"Clearly I don't if you're calling him a liar."

"Okay, like, like that time he bailed on you with the dance and told you he forgot."

Riley sat up.

"Excuse me?"

"What I-what I _mean_ to say is that he was just nervous. I was-I was telling him how absolutely _gorgeous_ you looked in your dress and-and he freaked out. I didn't think he was going to actually not show up. If that were the case then you _know_ I would have talked him out of it."

Riley looked disappointed. Like, like a kid who's just been told that when they were six, and their parents told them their dog "ran away" he really just died. That's what Riley looked like. And I felt like the deceitful parents as I sat before her, lying straight through my teeth to save my own ass.

A/N: Lucaya kills me in the beginning, just because this is all starting to become a little realistic in terms of the actual show and this could like, actually happen. Ugh.

Hopefully you guys don't mind me writing in third person a little! I think it helps get the message across better without Maya/Riley's thoughts/comments/ect on the situation, so when I write third person I'll just italicize it so it doesn't get confusing :)

Leave a review! :)


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I still have no idea how I'm ending this. Lmao. Enjoy though, leave a review. xx

* * *

 **Riley's POV**

"He looks at you like _all_ girls want to be looked at!" Arietta quietly gushed, with a stack of manilla folders that needed to be filed. In the break room, she plopped them right in front of me, and, while I was eating yogurt, continued to explain to me the in depth theory she had on my life.

"So once everything is all settled with Lucas, whether it be he cheats or-"

"-He would _never_ cheat, but continue."

"-Whether he _cheats_ or goes to college out of state or you just mutually end it on good terms, you'll find yourself working in the Museum of Art and Science-"

"-Which is where?"

"-Georgia. Let me finish. You'll be secretary of the art department, and he'll be a tourist in the science department, and one day, one day you'll both be scheduled for the same lunch, and you'll sit across from one another, and you'll look up, and you'll be like, 'Oh my gosh. Farkle _Minkus_?!' and then he'll propose. You'll send out invitations- err, let's say November, if the course we're going on holds out to be true, and I'll take a flight come December to be your maid in honor, considering I called this, and all."

I laughed. Arietta was extremely derogatory and demeaning towards me, but I could see the light in her eyes as she fantasized about my future and what it held, and considering she was attending college up in Colorado and wouldn't be here to see my life unfold, I figured, _Why not?_

Arietta looked up at the ceiling, a smile still painted upon her lips, and let out a sigh.

"I wish I could be loved."

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the room, the situation, our relationship, had all changed, and I'd realized why Arietta puts on the demeanor she did.

"Arietta, you can, don't-don't say that."

Arietta just smiled, but I could tell inside, she was hurting, and it broke me.

"Oh, boo-hoo, enough about me already. Let's talk about things with Lucas," Arietta quickly continued, changing the subject, and I frowned.

"Don't say you aren't capable of being loved. Anyone is capable of being loved, especially you. You're a great person Ari."

She just shrugged, and faked a smile.

"How was your grandfather's wake? I heard," she cleared her voice, quickly in order to lower it, " _Farkle_ attended," she raised an eyebrow, "Is this true?"

I pursed my lips.

"And where are you hearing this from?"

"Farkle. He told me."

A knock had been heard at the door, and Arietta and I turned in our chairs to see Farkle, with a sweat towel casually draped over his neck.

"Back to work, ladies," he called out, and returned to his desk after. Arietta rolled her eyes, and groaned.

"Until we meet again," she dramatically exclaimed, holding out her hand as she skipped away, back to her filing cabinet.

I glanced down at my phone, and to my surprise, it was already six, meaning my shift had ended. I smiled, flipped my hair over my shoulder, and grabbed my bag to say goodnight to Farkle, but he stopped me, with a concerned expression.

"You're walking?"

"It's just 15 minutes."

"It's dark. This is Miami. You can't be walking these streets by yourself."

I smirked, and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you taking responsibility for the fact that your gender consists of man whores and pigs who don't respect a woman's body nor privacy?"

He returned the smirk.

"Let's discuss this on our walk back to the Matthews' apartment, shall we?"

And so we left, as he linked with arm with mine, and I laughed at his corny jokes and unrealistic theories of the universe. Arietta had been left alone at the shelter, god knows doing what, but I can guarantee she was ecstatic about all of this, whatever "this" was in her mind.

It was chilly, this April night, and Farkle was right— there were thugs everywhere. Gangs shoe-tossing, cocaine deals in dark alleys— it wasn't pretty, but it was granted, considering it was a Friday night and nearly 8:00 already.

"Do you ever miss him?"

Interrupting the solemn, peaceful silence was Farkle. I turned to him, and thought about it for a moment before answering.

"I always do."

I looked down at the ground as my boots scuffed up the sidewalk. Farkle was a real contemplator, as he looked up at the sky, almost as if he were asking what he should say next. What he should say to make me feel better. And somehow, the most perfect words left his mouth, leaving me speechless as to how swift this boy really was.

"You shouldn't. He didn't leave you. He's still right here, right next to you."

I just smiled. I was in awe by the maturity and grace of this eighteen year old boy, his elegance when handling emotional situations yet composure when handling stressful ones. It was impressive, really. He was going to win a Nobel Peace Prize some day, I swore it.

"1108, correct?"

I was snapped out of my trance when Farkle had realized my apartment was in front of me before I did. I gave an awkward laugh, which he reciprocated, and thanked him.

"You have a good night."

"Yeah."

I closed my door behind me quickly after unlocking it, sinking to my feet.

 **Lucas POV**

Friday nights at Chester's pub were loud, rambunctious, full of booze and women, yet the only two women on my mind were Riley and Maya. As the waitress, with skimpy shorts and barely a belly shirt approached our table with drinks, I looked out the window.

I was drunk. I probably wasn't seeing straight. My vision, my perception, it was all off, but when I saw this girl, this girl who was the spitting image of Riley Matthews, I had to stand up.  
"Woah, dude sit down-"

I pushed Zay away. Squinting to see, I could make out Farkle, or some scrawny kid with average looks and terrible haircut, _escorting_ my girlfriend home. His arm was linked with hers, laughing as she spoke, and I could feel the buffalo dressing come up my throat, my stomach churning adamantly and my heart beating through my chest. My ears were red, my cheeks hot; I was embarrassed, I was scolding with anger, jealousy, sorrow, confusion— I couldn't make out _what_ I was feeling, just that something was there, something inside me upsetting me.

"You're really getting jealous of the kid who's 5'5?"

I turned sharply towards his direction. He was right. The kid worked at a freaking animal shelter, his girlfriend had a mustache, and he had a bicep diameter of about 0.5 inches. I had nothing to worry about. Right?

"Could I get another uh- _Sprite_ \- please?"

 **Maya's POV**

"So, this is going to be like, a double date, right?" squealed Riley, at lunch as she was absolutely fascinated in the conversation she was having with Farkle and his girlfriend, Isabella, or whatever the hell her name was.

Isa-something just nodded, as if she had better places to be. Checking her bejeweled blackberry for the 67th time, she sighed a sigh of relief, and stood up.

"Hate to let you go, it's just that my father is here. To pick me up."

She quickly kissed her boyfriend's cheek, which was much more like a peck, like, a _chicken_ peck, and fled the situation. Her heels obnoxiously clacked as she swung her hips walking down the hall, and she was gone. Farkle looked relieved.

"I can't believe I'm going on my first double date this weekend!" Riley said, clearly unbothered by Isa-something's lack of interest.

"May I remind you that I too am going," I interjected, awkwardly, and looked down at the table as Riley pondered on the thought for a moment.

"Why don't you invite Josh? It's not like you're single."

" _Riley."_

"What, Maya, can't spend time with your boyfriend in front of us?" said Lucas from behind, holding a lunch tray and a _Sunny D_ in his hand. Sitting down beside Riley and biting into his apple, he kept his eyes locked with mine, until I finally had to break the silence and stand up for myself.

"He lives in Georgia, you inconsiderate scum. You expect him to waste mileage to drive all the way down here and watch a lousy movie with me?"

"Guys, let's not-"

"-That's what you said last year, too, when you won the art award and had that big ceremony to attend and speak at. It was just some lousy art show, just some lousy show giving you one of the most prestigious awards in the state of Florida?"

I bit my lip. I remembered that night, clear as day when I received the letter in the mail informing me of my award. I cried, cried tears of joy that night, jumping up and down with my mother in our third story apartment building, as she cried out, " _My little girl's going somewhere in life, she's going somewhere!"_

I called Josh after getting into my room later, holding in my urge to scream out the moment he answered. And when he did, he sounded flustered, out of breath, and I couldn't point out why. Maybe he was on a run, or something.

"Josh, you will not believe what I just received in the mail," I said, my voice squealing a bit as my excitement surged through me.

He didn't answer. He didn't guess like Lucas did when I told him. He just waited, waited the whole thirty seconds I gave him to answer, until he finally muttered,  
"What?"

"I got- I got the Regional Art Award. I won for my piece that I submitted back in May, you remember that?"

"Mm-hm."

I sighed into the telephone, holding my breath and trying not to erupt into tears.

"Well, the ceremony is Thursday night, if you'd like to come-"

"-Maya, you can't seriously expect me to drive all that way for some lousy art award."

I bit my tongue then. At the time, I thought he was right, I thought what he was saying is reasonable, so we mutually agreed and hung up after that. And the next day at school, I just told Lucas he wasn't able to make it. Too busy being a real estate agent, and all.

"Let's not do this," Riley suddenly announced, interrupting my train of thought. I looked up from the ground and at her, nodding quickly in agreement.

 _Saturday night, 11 pm_

Rolling over in my dark room after hearing yet _another_ knock on my window, I contemplated getting up and letting Lucas in, considering the way things went last time. Dragging my blanket with me, I opened the window, squinting as the moonlight spilled into my room, and Lucas jumped in, awkwardly sitting in my chair. I laid back in bed, closing my eyes.

"I get it," he said softly, a moment of silence following after.

"Get what?"

"Us. You don't like me that way. I get it."

Suddenly, a cloud, a big, grey, heavy cloud had been lifted off of my shoulders, and I smiled a smile of relief. I rolled over, facing him, and opened an eye.  
"That's very mature of you."

"I miss you, Maya. Us. Our relationship, whether it be completely platonic or-"

"-Let's not go there tonight, alright?"

The boy chuckled, as did I, and I closed my eyes again.

"What made you change your mind?"

"Some deep thinking. And tonight."

I opened my other eye. Tonight? Tonight was Riley's acclaimed "double date," in which her and Lucas have a romantic, sappy date night, while also having the causality of hanging with friends at a bowling alley, since _The Longest Ride_ was sold out.

"Tonight?"

"I realized I love Riley. A lot. And you, you obviously have some unresolved feelings for Josh, which I understand. I just want the two of us to be happy, don't you?"

I choked up. I don't know why I did, but I did, and I was lucky it was dark in my room.

"So you- you _don't_ 'like' me anymore?"

"I'll always be in love with you Maya. But like you said, we'll have to save it for another lifetime."

After that I didn't say anything. I bit my tongue, listening to the quaint sound of the owls in the distance and the rustling of people and cars beneath my window. I didn't know what to say, and if I did say something, I feared bursting into tears, for some reason I did not know.

He jumped into bed with me after that, falling asleep beside me like the good old days, which, now I'd presume Riley would not be very happy with. But it felt nice, having my best friend sleep next to me again— listening to his quiet snore, his deep breathing. And when I woke up and rolled over to find him still next to me, a feeling of warmth was restored inside of me, knowing that, my life was back again, and Maya Hart was no longer a lost girl needing saving.

* * *

A/N: LOL, little does she know.

OK, so I have up to a certain point of the plot completed, which is basically the climax, which basically happens towards the end of the story, which is basically soon. I can't see this going on to be more than 20 chapters honestly.

I have an idea for another fanfic. It's Teen Wolf, though, minus the whole supernatural shit they've got going on that makes zero sense. It would be stydia centric, about Stiles losing his memories and him either only remembering Lydia or Lydia trying to help him restore his memories. Idk yet, but I don't really need to, considering I'm not starting that (if I decide on writing it) until I finish this.

Does anybody watch Teen Wolf? Or would anybody be interested in reading this? Let me know, and also let me know what you think of this chapter. Sorry my chapters are a little short, by the way :/


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I'm sorry this is so short! But a lot happens so that kinda makes up for it! I'm going to continue doing this cause you guys clearly want me to and cause I don't wanna be a quitter. I'm almost done with this... I've got the storyline planned out as for the shit that goes down at graduation but I have no idea how I'm gonna resolve things. Enjoy and leave a review :)

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

 **Lucas POV**

"So then she was like, 'My parents aren't home!'" Zay announced to the crowd of hungry freshmen in the hallway, who were absolutely devouring his story. The crowd erupted into laughter, as they gawked at Zay, who was casually pushing and pulling books and folders out of his locker while telling his story. Standing next to him uncomfortably, I folded my arms over my chest, for I've always had some personal space issues, and there were about 46 freshmen drenched in bodily odors standing around me.

When I saw Riley, who looked absolutely drained walking down the hallway, I quickly left Zay, and ran to catch up with her.

"Riley," I said, flustered, "I've been meaning to ask you something."

She didn't look up, just continued looking straight ahead as she dodged people left and right coming down the hall.

"We-well, I just wanted to ask about what you were doing Friday night. You know, before the movie."

This caught her attention.

"Why would you ask me this now?" the brunette snapped, speeding up a bit, as if I wouldn't notice. Struggling to keep up, I said,

"It just never crossed my mind Saturday. Were you-"

"-I was walking home with Farkle. Big deal."

She shoved past a sophomore, with big dorky glasses and a stack of books piled in his arms, and cut sharp to turn into Chemistry for first period. Following, I grabbed her arm, stopping her before she sat down,

"Riley, is something going on?"

"You're just- being different. I feel like you're jealous, or something."

I swallowed, and took a deep breath, trying to calmly rationalize with her in a civilized fashion in front of Mrs. Consolas.

"That- no. I'm not. I'm just concerned. If you needed someone to walk you home so badly, why couldn't you have just asked me?"

"Why couldn't you have offered?"

I felt my cheeks burn, as they turned red and all the eyes of the classroom were on me. I took another breath, slowly sitting down and forfeiting this battle.

"I didn't know, I-"

"It's not a big deal. Really."

Riley walked away from our lab table, dropping her books next to Farkle's, and smiled as she turned in her seat to face him.

 **Maya's POV**

I had a spring in my step today, this fine Friday afternoon, as I'd completed the day with zero bullshit and a very light heart. Optimism was radiating throughout my body as I'd entered the auditorium for graduation practice, seeing Riley already there with Lucas by her side and Farkle not-so-casually leaning against the wall, trying to get her attention. Approaching them, not forgetting to swiftly give Farkle my notorious side eye, I threw my bag on the seat in front of Riley and Lucas, and smiled.

"Have you ordered your cap and gown yet?" Riley quickly asked, a cloud of gloom and anxiety sitting over her as her eyebrows were furrowed and her foot tapped anxiously on the carpeted floor.

"No, I-"

"Mr. Mulligan is pissed. He said we were supposed to have them in by Wednesday, _Wednesday,_ and I haven't even placed my order for a yearbook yet," Riley groaned, rubbing her eyes and throwing her head back.

Mr. Mulligan was our senior class advisor. He was an average looking man; around 50, divorced, permanent sweat stains under every dress shirt he owned, and wore a sweater vest to school everyday. He was just _that_ guy.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, Riley."

Her eyes looked dark and her body weary. Lucas tried wrapping his arm around her, but she resisted, pulling away and quickly crossing her legs. Awkwardly pulling back, he looked around the room, whistled a bit, and then found his escape route, claiming he had to go get his Calculus homework from his locker.

As he left, I shot Riley an intense look, but she refused to make eye contact. I nudged her shoulder, and lazily, she turned her attention to my direction.

"What's up?"  
"I just told you," she retorted, impatiently.

"Has something gotten into you?"

And she didn't answer. She just looked around the room, humming quietly, tapping her foot restlessly, ignoring me, but very clearly answering my question.

 **Lucas POV**

"The Great Gatsby," Mrs. Day announced, quite loud over the blaring air conditioner in the stuffy classroom, "is remembered to this day because of the careless mistakes of Tom Buchanan," she cleared her throat, "and Daisy Buchanan."

The classroom as a whole was bored. It was over 90 degrees outside, us seniors had a measly two weeks left, and Mrs. Day had been talking about _The Great Gatsby_ for three months now. It was getting old.

"Daisy was the typical woman of that generation. She was careless, flirtatious, scared and naive. But, deep down, she knew what she wanted. And accepted that no matter what, she would never be able to be with Gatsby, not in the generation in which she lived."

Riley, in the front of the classroom, squirmed in her seat awkwardly. Her foot starting bouncing, again, restlessly, and Maya, who had a glossy forehead and looked uneasy in this heat, turned to give her _the look._

"Feelings, love– these are all more important than any societal expectations or labels women are required to meet. And we, as woman today, we're lucky we aren't growing up in such a harsh time. What Daisy did was not right, but could you blame her? So much was put on her, and even if she were to decide later in her life to leave Tom, it was too late. He was gone. Forever."

Maya blinked. She turned in her seat away from Riley and to Mrs. Day, who was sitting on her desk with an expression of sorrow.

"This novel is essentially about not letting the right one get away. And from Daisy's carelessness, she did let the right one get away," Mrs. Day adjusted herself in her seat and pulled her neck collar away, allowing for some breeze, "Class dismissed."

 _2:30 p.m._

Walking amongst the halls aimlessly, waiting for the busses to clear out of the parking lot, I went to Riley's locker. She looked up at me, giving a meek smile.

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I'll be walking you home tonight. From the animal shelter."

"Oh, I'm not going tonight. Just, uh, taking the night off. Need a little time to myself to think about some stuff."

She closed her locker, quietly, and began to walk with me.

"Oh. That's cool. So, next time I will, I guess."

She blandly laughed, and the hallway was silent, with just the sound of our shoes clicking and clacking on the tile floor.

"I'm sorry I'm not as great of a boyfriend as I'd like to be," I began, awkwardly, "and as you'd obviously like me to be. But I'm working on it, I promise. I want to be like Farkle, talking to you all the time and walking you home and just being so-great."

Riley's eyes widened, but she continued to listen.

"And you know, it's just hard for me, because I have so many sports and stuff. But I love you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes for us to work."

She just nodded, again, and continued walking.

"So?"

She looked over at me, and just muttered under her breath,  
"Yeah."

 _9:57 p.m._

At nearly 10:00, I yawned, stretched, and headed to bed, after a fairly boring night with my mother and her friends drinking some wine. Taking off my shirt and getting into bed, my phone rang, and I smiled when seeing Riley's name appear on my screen.

"Hey, babe," I whispered, jumping into bed and laying on my side.

She was quiet for a few moments, as the only thing I could hear was her heavy breathing.

"Riley?"

"L-lucas…" she began, her voice cracking and her tone shaky, "I need to tell you something."

I sat up, my heart racing through my chest and my head starting to spin with possibilities.

"Why don't we just talk? I can come over right now-"

"-There's," she took a deep breath, which I presumed was Riley regaining her composure and not bursting into tears over the phone, "there's nothing to talk about, Lucas."  
Her friendly, sympathetic tone sharply contrasted the matter at hand, whether it was about us or something else that clearly upset her.

"I can't just sit here knowing that you're crying, somewhere. Where are you Riley? I need to see you."

"I can't see you right now. And I'm not upset, Lucas," she paused again, sniffling, "I can't do this."

"Can't do what? Talk on the phone? Riley, I'll be at your house in 15, just hang tight-"

"-No, I-I can't do _us_."

My heart dropped, waiting for her to continue, waiting for her to give me some sort of explanation, but she was completely silent.

"I didn't think doing this would be so hard, " she said, with a laugh, but I didn't reciprocate.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Why are you doing this?" I blurted out, raging with anger, sadness, jealousy, sorrow. I clenched my fists, as my eyes pooled with tears and my face increasingly grew warmer.

"Mrs. Day, she-she was right today. About following our hearts when we're young, and all that-"

"-Riley that's, you can't take that sentimental stuff seriously. We love each other. I love you. That's all that matters, right?"

"It's not."

I stood up, pacing around my room, looking for the right words to say to fix this. And when Riley took a deep breath, which I assumed was to say goodbye, I grabbed something, anything, (which just so happened to be the glass on my nightstand) and threw it. It shattered, glass shards going everywhere, and I let out a cry.

"Lucas?"

"I gotta go, Riley."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Seriously so mad I didn't call this fic Lost :(

Certain Things makes sense, in the long run of things, but you gotta think about it I guess. Eh, whatever.

So I didn't proof read this and I apologize if there are any errors. This was hard to write. And it's going to come to a close shortly (ish?), so leave some prompts/ideas in the reviews for a new fic? And it doesn't have to be GMW (I would honestly prefer it not to be). I really would like to write a The 100 fic in the future. Let me know what you think of this!

* * *

 **Maya's POV**

Hesitantly approaching Lucas' door with his cap and gown dry cleaned, I stopped for a moment, taking into consideration what exactly I could be getting myself into. Lucas isn't lucky with the ladies usually, and with Riley, it was like striking gold, except now he's coming to the frank conclusion that gold wasn't really gold and just pyrite—at least for him.

They were _both_ each other's first lovers. They both had never been kissed, never been embraced, held, felt so emotionally tethered to, and now that it was over, they're both suffering the same way, and feel so alone, like nobody understands what they're going through. And me, I'm stuck in the middle of all this mess, not even sure if I myself am at fault for this or if I'm expected to be some sort of "helping hand" to the two. Nonetheless, Lucas needed to get his ass up and graduate. He'll thank me later.

Knocking aggressively, because I knew he wouldn't get off the couch if I gave some mediocre knock, I tapped my foot against the cement, waiting in the excruciating heat for Lucas' apartment to provide me some relief.

He opened the door, and to no surprise he was wearing just his boxers and a muscle shirt. His eyes, per the usual, were dark, gloomy, and depressing. He hadn't used deodorant in at least a week, judging by the smell that hit me when the door opened. Walking past him quickly with one hand plugging my nose, I dropped his gown on the table and looked at him with a stern, not-here-for-the-bullshit look, but he wasn't giving in.

There were fifteen used coffee cups arrayed on his counter, a sink of dirty dishes and the curtains in every room of the apartment shut. I opened them, as I pushed the cups into the sink, and he shrieked, covering his body with a blanket as he'd already returned to the couch, resuming his episode of _Family Guy_.

"Graduation is _tonight,_ Lucas. _Tonight_. Do you even have a suit picked out yet?"

He rolled his eyes. I took the remote from his hands (he's always had subpar reflexes) and turned off the television.

"I can't go. I-I can't see Riley yet, not yet, I'll-I'll just go pick it up over the summer over something."

"That's not how it works."

Picking him up from his spaghetti arms, using all of my upper body strength (which wasn't very much), I dragged him into his bedroom. And he could have stopped me, he definitely could have resisted, but he didn't, just letting his body drag as I pulled him away, because he knew deep down I was right. Or something.

Plopping him on his bed, I opened his closet and scanned his limited supply of white dress shirts. I pulled the one shirt I found without any stains on it over his head, as he sat, lifeless on his bed, and then picked a pair of black dress pants from his drawer.

"You're on your own for this part, kiddo-"

"I can't go, Maya. I'm serious. I'll just be too humiliated if I see her, especially with that Farkle kid there. I just can't go."

I raised an eyebrow, as my hand distinctively returned to my hip, and took a short breath.

"Look, I know you screwed up, and you made a mistake, which was really stupid and kind of made you look like an asshole-"

"- _Maya_."

"-But, the only thing that really matters is that I'm still here, even after that foolish thing you did, and I still love you. That's all that matters, right?"

He looked up at me, like he'd just experienced an epiphany, or had seen Jesus Christ himself, and opened his mouth, as his eyebrows furrowed together.

"So, you want to be together now?"

"No-I-no, of course not, just because I," I took a deep breath, recomposing myself, " _Just_ because I say I love you doesn't mean it's romantic."

Awkwardly, I scoffed, flipping my hair, and from the corner of my eye I could see his lips creep into a smirk.

"Anyways, you gotta be stronger than that, man," I continued, as he regained self-control, "you can't let a woman get the best of you. Riley's going. She's not letting you get the best of her."

"She doesn't have anything to be ashamed of."

"And neither do you," I said, poking his chest playfully, "Go out there man. Get that diploma and be the boss I know you are."

"Please, never call me that again."

"I understand completely."

I stepped away for a moment, as he picked out a tie and put it on, and I ended my case with,

"Be at my place for 6:30 for pictures. I'll have Riley out by then, don't worry about anything."

Patting his back in an awkward, friendly way, I made my way out, cringing as I'd began my walk home.

 **Lucas POV**

Popping a mint into my mouth, trying to eliminate the "reek" of alcohol which lingered on my body, I parked my car and let my head fall back on my seat. I closed my eyes, trying to calmly resolve any problems that I could possibly come across in my mind. And I was blank. Riley was going to be there, sure, but we knew damn well she didn't have the guts to talk to me, or she would have stayed at Maya's house when I arrived. Riley was always nothing but a pushover. A soft, weak, pushover.

I blinked and sat up. What the hell was I saying? I was in love with Riley. They say you don't know what you have until it's gone, and hell, are "they" right. I missed Riley. Every part of me, every part of my body, my mind, it ached for Riley, to come back to me, to accept me again, to forgive me, for whatever it was I'd done. And the scariest part was when the daunting idea that Riley could have been the _one_ came to mind, leaving my stomach in knots and my mind racing.

Maya, I'd thought, was the love of my life growing up. She was everything I wanted. And when I revealed that to her, letting myself be vulnerable in front of her, she couldn't take it, and clearly didn't feel the same way about me. Riley, though, Riley loved me _back._ And with Riley, I felt safe, like, if I ever needed something, anything, she would help me with that. Riley could have been the one. She _would_ have been the one, and it broke my heart. I didn't know how I'd face her tonight, I really didn't.

Before getting out, I'd looked in my rear view mirror, quickly, casually, and innocently, expecting anything other than what I'd seen.

Riley, in Farkle's passenger seat, had been giggling as she struggled to delicately move the tassel on the top of his cap. As her fingers softly touched his cheeks, Farkle blushed, looking down at his shoes and biting his fingernail to distract himself. After successfully adjusting his hat and tassel so it wasn't in his face, the two rejoiced in a high five, laughing as they got out of his car and walked in together.

A pang of jealousy ran up my spine. Trying my best to not clench my fists, I quickly pushed my mirror out of my way, slamming the car door and walking in.

As the advisors directed me towards the ceremony, some quickly throwing in comments like, "How handsome you look tonight!" I found Maya, sitting on the bleachers and looking down at her phone. Looking up, she found me, a smile immediately appearing on her face, and she took a deep breath.

"Graduation, huh? Feels like just yesterday-"

"-Yeah, feels like just yesterday we were starting elementary school. I've heard that at least 50 times this week," I blurted out, scanning the perimeter for Riley and Farkle. Maya, clearly disrespected, sat up, pushing herself off the bleachers with her arms, and stood next to me, nonchalantly saying under her breath,

"I was going to say it felt like yesterday I sat next to you at lunch, and, you know, saved your social life from complete and utter destruction, but, you know, that too."

As guilt and humiliation surged through my body, I saw Riley, sitting with Farkle and looking around aimlessly. She looked bored, as Farkle made small talk with the school administrators and the head of the National Honor Society. Suddenly, her eyes met mine, and I panicked: I turned to Maya, nudging her a little too fast for it to look believable, and told her I needed her to fix my tassel. _Immediately_.

It wasn't necessarily the _smartest_ way to make Riley jealous, considering, you know, I could have moved the tassel myself, and, you know, it wasn't absolutely urgent for a girl 6 inches shorter than me to try and do it. Awkwardly crouching down, Maya, after I directed my eyes towards Riley, agreed, pushing the tassel to my left quickly and returning her glance back up, with an expression of confusion and embarrassment plastered on her face.

 **Maya's POV**

Mr. Mulligan, with a water bottle that I assumed was full of vodka, spoke sluggishly into the microphone on the stage. Repeating the same phrase for fifteen minutes, his voice grew more monotonous and robotic by the second, making it even more unbearable to stand.

"Please find your seats, arranged by alphabetical order, I repeat please find you designated seats, arranged by alphabetical order..."

His voice began to trail off, as his eyes began to flitter away and his posture weakened. As Mrs. Consolas rushed to the stage to escort him away, I found my seat, and kicked the back of Lucas'.

He sat diagonally across from me, sobered-up but not enough, and had a long face, with sunken eyes and weary composure.

He turned, in a torpid manner, and managed to give a half smile. As I furrowed my eyebrows at him, searching his eyes for answers, he jolted up, stifling the neckline of his shirt and intensely watching someone or something in the distance.

I turned. Riley and Farkle had been seated together. It was only inevitable, considering their last names, but Lucas looked sick to his stomach, like he'd been betrayed, beaten, defeated.

I placed my hand on his shoulder, as his eyes were glued to Riley, sitting down with her legs crossed and hands folded in the classiest fashion.

"It's not up to Riley, it's just her last name. If she-she had the choice, I promise you she'd be sitting with us."

He didn't answer. He already knew. He was just upset, humiliated with everything, and slowly turned away, returning his glance to the stage as Mr. Mulligan had returned to the microphone.

He began speaking of his time in high school, which, I'd presume was a pretty long time ago, before electricity and all, and how he'd met some of the best people in his life, but they'd gotten away. Despite the obnoxious sweat stains, stench of alcohol and overall mediocre appearance for a high school graduation, Mr. Mulligan was real in everything he said. The crowd was in awe, listening to how he strung together his words so effortlessly, so effectively. I think more than anything, we were surprised that he _wasn't_ lying about his college degree, after all these years.

"I met the love of my life in high school," Mr. Mulligan said, his voice breaking and tears welling in his eyes, "and you all may be thinking, why, where is she now, then? She got away. And that's why I'm telling you all this, be careful to keep the close ones close, no matter where you end up going in your life. You'll regret it if you don't, I tell ya."

He paused, biting his lip and managing to give a meek smile to the crowd.

"Let's begin honoring our graduates."

As he began to read the names of the list, Lucas groaned, rubbing his eyes and sitting back, taking deep breaths.

"Hey," I whispered, patting his shoulder assuredly, "The break up was for the best. It was the right thing. Don't let this get you down."

He didn't answer, again.

I was conflicted as to whether Lucas was morally upset about his life or just angry. Either-or, it wasn't a good thing.

When Lucas was angry as a kid, it was scary. Real scary.

Sitting in the playground, picking the grass out of the lawn was Lucas, his face red, his teeth clenched, his eyes burning, trying to hold back the tears. He'd just been in the sandbox, waiting for me to finish my lunch inside, when two boys, big and chubby, with tight clothes on approached him. Scooting over innocently and offering a bucket and pail to the boys, he stared up at them, waiting for them to sit. Instead, the boys started shouting, words that, at the time, Lucas couldn't make out, as his heart fluttered and his body trembled. They kicked sand in his eyes, some he swallowed by accident, too, and pushed him away, laughing and whooping and confusing the hell out of 9 year old Lucas.

I had to go to the bathroom to help him clean up after that, since the teacher assistants simply offered him a couple of kleenex and a bottle of water to help him out. He cried, saying his eyes burned, they burned bad. And he coughed up sand, despite his throat being dry and it causing him pain, so much pain. It burned. It burned for hours.

And when I brought him back to the playground, for the last few minutes of recess we had left, the boys laughed. _Laughed_. And Lucas couldn't take it. He didn't know what the hell he was doing, but he approached them, his eyes red, swollen, and wet, and sucker-punched the first one, causing the second of run off. The boy screamed as his body hit the hard pavement, and Lucas just stared, in shock or whatnot, until the teacher assistants broke up the situation.

And after that, while Lucas was picking apart the grass, and I rocked back and forth, with my knees pressed to my chest, all he whispered was,

"Don't let that happen again."

"Lucas Friar," Mr. Mulligan announced, the crowd once again erupting into an applause. Hollering was heard from the back- I'd guess it was Lucas' parents- and Lucas accepted his diploma, using all of his might to keep a smile from creeping onto his face. I'd hope.

It was a little too serious, a little too dry for a kid who just graduated high school. He sat down, just placing in on the grass, and all I could mutter out was, "Lucas."

He turned and just smiled at me. He knew what I wanted to see.

Names were called following that, mine included.

And when Riley had finally been called, the crowd was particularly loud. Turning around, Farkle had been standing up, clapping, shouting, smiling, laughing- and Lucas' face burned. He bit his lip, clenched his jaw, cracked his knuckles. This was not good.

My heart started to pound through my chest. I was nervous, for Riley and Farkle, but more particularly for his plastic surgeon.

" _Lucas_ ," I repeated again, trying to look cool, but his eyes were glued to Farkle, and Farkle was plain oblivious to the situation at hands. As I went to put my hand out on his shoulder, he was up, walking towards Farkle steadily, but with clear intentions. And Riley, Riley was just frozen on the steps of the stage, as she watched her ex-boyfriend knock her current-or whatever the hell they were- to the floor, cold, hard, and ruthlessly. Farkle was out, the ceremony was silent, shocked, _scared_ \- and Lucas, Lucas just cracked his knuckles again, looked down at Farkle on the grass, and walked away: coolly, calmly, and collected- but this time, without a purpose or intention.

Lucas was lost. Lucas Friar was a lost boy.


End file.
